Entry tags:
[for Jessica] christmastime is here
Christmas this year couldn't be any different than the last. I wake up alone, for one, still wearing the stuffy Victorian clothes I wore to attend mass the night before, and cold for having passed out over the blankets. The room isn't the one I oversaw being built, but rather a fancier version of the already swanky one I inherited from Tony when I moved into the mansion months back. Most importantly, I actually leave bed at a decent hour, because there's no one to entertain but myself, and I'm pretty lousy company.
I wish Tony and Pepper a Merry Christmas before I head out for the day; I mean, there's nothing really special about Christmas afternoon, right? No one's going to miss me if I prowl around the city for a couple hours in plainclothes, taking in the sights as I see them. Somehow, though, the path becomes familiar, my feet getting a memo that my brain didn't send when I get off the Underground a stop earlier than intended, and before too long, I find myself standing in front of the building that's replaced my old house. I've been here once before since the change, peeked inside to see the extent of the transformation.
It feels emptier than it did before my footsteps echoing against the empty walls. Habit has me starting a fire. Boredom has me thumbing through the pages of one of the books I left behind. A newspaper clipping of Gwen Stacy falls to the ground, and I remember why I kept it here. Crouching down, I pick up the paper, and stare down at the faded newsprint, smoothing it back into the front cover of the book. For a moment I'm lost in memories so old they seem worn around the edges, like a film strip, but I'm quickly brought back into the present when I hear something -- no, not something, someone -- hit the outside wall. I shut the book, sliding it back between the others on the shelf, and walk over to the window.
Jessica.
Color me surprised.
I knock against the glass to get her attention before disappearing to a window that'll actually open, standing aside once the job is done to let her in.
"Thought you were supposed to come through the chimney."
I wish Tony and Pepper a Merry Christmas before I head out for the day; I mean, there's nothing really special about Christmas afternoon, right? No one's going to miss me if I prowl around the city for a couple hours in plainclothes, taking in the sights as I see them. Somehow, though, the path becomes familiar, my feet getting a memo that my brain didn't send when I get off the Underground a stop earlier than intended, and before too long, I find myself standing in front of the building that's replaced my old house. I've been here once before since the change, peeked inside to see the extent of the transformation.
It feels emptier than it did before my footsteps echoing against the empty walls. Habit has me starting a fire. Boredom has me thumbing through the pages of one of the books I left behind. A newspaper clipping of Gwen Stacy falls to the ground, and I remember why I kept it here. Crouching down, I pick up the paper, and stare down at the faded newsprint, smoothing it back into the front cover of the book. For a moment I'm lost in memories so old they seem worn around the edges, like a film strip, but I'm quickly brought back into the present when I hear something -- no, not something, someone -- hit the outside wall. I shut the book, sliding it back between the others on the shelf, and walk over to the window.
Jessica.
Color me surprised.
I knock against the glass to get her attention before disappearing to a window that'll actually open, standing aside once the job is done to let her in.
"Thought you were supposed to come through the chimney."