In a Grain of Sand
To see the world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wildflower.
*I went to see Age of Ultron a while back, and I instantaneously fell in love with Pietro Maximoff. Then, I found myself wondering what it would be like for him if he had not died. Combine that with intense feels after reading a lot of Albert Camus, and this story was born.
1.
Sometimes, she thought running would help ease her stress; and sometimes, she had to physically drag herself out of bed in the morning.
She ran, mostly, with the intensity of a lagging computer. This was to be expected. In her life, she had never done anything with more than half-arsed determination.
(Except for writing. But of course, only because she was a half-broke Literature major.)
This was a life she had chosen for herself, but it wasn't one she enjoyed living. She had heard once, that the literary canon was full of depressed people. She found it in her to agree, but then remembered that she was not yet qualified enough to be a part of the canon.
That only made her more depressed.
Yet, Romana Song would sit in cafes sometimes, and realise that she was living her dream, while wondering if this was truly what she wanted.
(But what more could she ask for?)
Anyway, she ran with the intensity of a lagging computer, and let her gaze wander. A breeze went by her, and she slowed to a jog, getting the strangest feeling that someone had ran by really, really quickly.
Rolling her eyes, Romana dismissed the ridiculous assumption and carried on, syncing her footsteps with the rhythm of her new favourite song. 2 miles to go. The heat was getting to her. She wiped the sweat off her upper lip unceremoniously and ungracefully. She breathed slowly, and breathed in the pungent hot air with each intake. It burned her lungs and made her heart pound with the intensity that she could never summon.
Swearing under her breath, she slowed down to a walk once more, and slammed the 'stop' button on her iPod. The sun continued to shine upon her. She shook her head at her lack of perseverance, but did not stop long enough to wonder how she could change that.
She stopped by her favourite cafe, and bought herself a cup of espresso that she could not afford. Sitting by the window, she drowned herself in self-pity and guilt for a moment before leaving to scribble down a plot-bunny that had appeared in the back of her mind.
(She stayed in her room, poring over the idea for 2 hours, and very nearly missed her lecture.)
The Walk of Shame was not nearly as shameful as most university students suggested. Romana slipped into the lecture hall 10 minutes late, yet only a few weary glances were cast along her way.
Once (and it seemed too long ago), the professor had had sky high hopes for her. But then mid-term came and she managed to fuck up the expectation that she was a prodigy (which, in her defense, was a bloated rumour), and she had just become a disappointment from then on.
So even as she muttered a half-hearted apology for her tardiness, the professor only carried on teaching with the sort of manner you'd expect to see from a weary old man tired of life.
For the rest of the lesson, Romana listened attentively, compiling the best set of notes anyone could have asked for. Yet, behind the perfect handwriting, there was a hidden layer of nonchalance and absence.
When the lesson ended, she put her head up, and shuffled out of the classroom like everyone else. She thought about how the rest of the students here probably had no idea who they were, or what they wanted in life. Then, she tried to juxtapose herself, and found that while she knew exactly what she wanted, it had, ultimately, made no difference.
You're reading too much Albert Camus, she told herself, and it's getting to your brain.
Then, Romana went back to her dorm room, and spent the rest of the day trying to finish her essay on soliloquies that was due one week later, and then when that didn't work, she tried her hand at finishing the manuscript that she had vowed to finish before the end of the month.
In the end, neither was done, so she just turned the lights off, and tried to get a bit of a shut-eye before the next day.
Don't stop reading! Pietro will be in the next chapter- this is just an introduction- I promise!