Sorry this chapter is so short, but it's everything I wanted to say on the matter. But I promise the next chapter will be up in only a day or two, and it will be a LOT longer. Hope you enjoy this little vignette!
Once again, I own nothing.
Age
I first noticed it when Happy abandoned the occasional bout of boxing for teaching Tony his moves instead. It wasn't like our boss needed to learn to defend himself- he just wanted to stay in shape, and that was what drew my attention. He'd never worked hard for his body before- he was just a lucky son of a bitch with a damn fast metabolism. And now, he and Happy worked out together. Everyday. It could only mean one thing.
We were getting old.
I'm not saying that thirty-three is ancient, it's just… not long ago, we'd been so young. I was barely twenty-four when Tony hired me- a shy, naïve accountant, and he had been a fresh faced, thirty year old womanizer. Now, I wasn't shocked by anything, and Tony was beginning to look… forty. Which he was, or thereabout. His face was marked by lines- gasp, wrinkles!- as well as by freckles and his carefully trimmed facial hair. He'd even begun to slow down- I only had to remove his female guests maybe five times a month, rather than five times a week.
It was beginning to show on all of us. Happy had given up his former sport altogether. Rhodey had risen steadily through the ranks of the air force, and Obadiah, well, he was bald, with a grey beard, and he was borderline portly.
What had happened to us? Where once was ambition and drive was comfort and complacency. I had always intended to quit after the first year or two I worked for Tony- id always wanted to travel and do things. I wanted to do something crazy, I wanted to experience something different. Yet somehow, time slipped by, and before I knew it, Tony popped open a bottle of champagne in celebration of our ninth anniversary. Nine years? When did that happen? I can hardly remember the last nine days.
But time doesn't only bring wrinkles and decrepitude; it brings comfort and trust. Tony and I had sort of grown into each other- I understood his eccentricities, just as he accepted mine.
When we would sit down together for dinner, or watch a movie, or have pancake eating contests, I came to realize that it was sort of like… I was a pair of shoes he'd worn for a while, and now they were a perfect fit.
So, I know it was awfully short, but what did you think? Was it good and short or bad and short? My next chapter will be up soon, and it will be a bit different than everything else. I've finally reached the point I wanted to be at. Thanks for reading (and hopefully reviewing)!