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Brows furowed in concentration Steve watched Tony. He didn´t even dare to blink. A single droplet of sweat ran down the side of his face. "Don´t get nervous," he told himself, "remain focused." His whole body was tense, ready to fight. "Remember why you do this, don´t forget your target."
Tony´s armour reflected what was left of the little daylight, the red of the armor becoming a darker shade - like blood.
"Don´t go there, not this images". The gold of the Ironman suit in combination with the dark red reminded Steve of a fallen star, a fire that threatened to consumned everything.
The air was thick with tension and there was it - this eerie calm before the battle.
Steve had fought too many battles to not remember what the calm felt like. There was no sound, no scents and you saw everything but not really watched it. He almost felt like in shock - the ringing in his ears and a strange taste in his mouth. He swallowed and found that his tongue was glued to his palate. His heart pounded painfully hard in his chest and he thought he felt every beat; it sounded like a giant beating a drum. Steve felt like he stood at the edge, so close before falling down.