Chapter 3
Immediately upon returning home, Clara, ashamedly, sent Tony a "got home safe" text, to which he simply replied,
good.
On the bathroom floor, clad in only her undergarments, Clara reread his message over and over. She debated sending another text but decided against it, determining how silly it would be. What would there even be to say? Even from afar, Tony could still muddle her brain. Instead, she nestled her phone to her bare chest.
Attempting to rid her swimming mind of Tony, Clara drowned her face in warm soapy water. She rid herself of the black makeup that, checking in the mirror she hadn't missed any spots. Wiping the few remnants off, Clara stared at herself in the small, dirty mirror.
She had never thought much of herself. Not compared to the societal standards that she concluded were impossible to reach. Clara had big green eyes that always seemed stuck in a wide, shocked glance and a small petit nose, littered with freckles. Her cheeks were perpetually rosy, something she blamed on her never-ending anxiety. While she had always wished her lips were bigger, they weren't small by any means, but they didn't have that pout girls desired. The dark locks that framed her face lay limp, just below her breasts. Clara ran a hand through them and sighed, maybe this was why the boys could never be bothered with her.
Not that it troubled her. Clara was comfortable by herself. It was safer that way. What was that old saying, if it's not broken, don't fix it?
Turning off all the lights in her apartment, Clara said goodnight to herself and the night.
/
A long week had passed since Clara's run in with Tony. A week that dragged with work, never ending study hours and short sleeps. She had just about managed to meet all her deadlines, and had Oscar to thank for, who spent hours with her in the school library. Quite a few times he had to wake her from slumber as they burned the midnight oil.
October neared, and with that, the looming prospect of midterms approached. The days started to bleed into one another as Clara engrossed herself in routine. On the mornings she worked, she most likely stayed behind a few hours to plant herself at a round table to fixate on homework. She knew if she stayed home, the probability of falling asleep rather than getting any work done, was high.
Today was one of those days. Clara had thrown a baggy gray, crewneck sweater to cover her work shirt that had been stained with mocha drizzle from that morning's shift. She still wore her black jeans and tattered brown Doc Martin's, as she was never too concerned to bring a whole change of clothes with her. It was only midday and Clara promised herself she would at least have a rough draft of this essay done by the end of the day.
An hour or so passed and already Clara was resting her forehead in her hands, sighing from mental exhaustion. God, she'd much rather be browsing the shelves of Barnes and Noble to pick out a new book. She hadn't found the time to read any new stories and sorely missed it. Clara even just missed strolling through the city, with no destination in mind. It had only been a few years since she moved here from a small town in Pennsylvania and still felt as if she hadn't even seen a quarter of the city.
But the last thing Clara could do was fall behind in school. She was grateful the University of New York accepted her, and even more grateful to the scholarship awarded to her. Even if it did just barely cover the costs of attendance. However, if her grades slipped, her scholarship would be taken away. And Clara had no safety net beneath her, nothing to fall back on. No scholarship meant no more university. The mere though of that made Clara whip her head back up and start typing away at her laptop with ferocity.
Peaking over the top of her screen, Clara watched with an intense stare as Tony Stark walked in the little bistro. Her eyes followed him as he walked to the front counter. He was dressed like he was going to attend the Met Gala, not a quaint little coffee shop. Unconsciously, she slinked lower into the leather chair, to hide from view. The last thing she'd want is to be spotted with her greasy hair in a ponytail and makeup smudged from steam. Clara hoped her tiny spot in the back corner would be enough camouflage to keep incognito.
Tony had paid for his order and was tapping his foot away, waiting to collect. He seemed to study the miscellaneous art that hung messily on the dark walls of the shop. Half of which she hadn't even noticed till now. As his eyes skimmed the frames, his range of view came dangerously close to her seat. Clara held her breath. And then his eyes met hers.
Oh God.
He froze, and so did she.
His head cocked to the side. She'd been spotted.
Oh God.
A smirk formed on his lips and with hands in pockets he casually started making his way towards her.
Oh no.
Clara gulped, hard.
In a matter of seconds, Tony was looking down at her. Was this how they were always destined to meet, with him towering over her?
"Hi," she breathed out shakily.
He grinned, "Hey there."
Thinking of something, anything to say, Clara replied, "How are you?"
Tony jutted out his bottom lip and nodded his head side to side a few times, "Oh good. Got my hands full with the, ya know, whole billion-dollar company thing."
Clara cleared her throat, "Must be busy."
"Sure is. You look pretty busy yourself," Tony said, shaking a finger at her scattered papers over the table.
Embarrassed by her mess, Clara tried organizing them in a pile, "Oh, it's just schoolwork."
"So, you're a student."
Clara tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, "Yeah, I'm studying-"
Tony held a hand up, "Wait, don't tell me. Business?"
Clara smiled and shook her head, "No."
"Finance?"
Clara let out a laugh, "Not even close."
Tony stroked his goatee, "Huh. Are you artsy fartsy?"
"Not particularly."
He closed one eye, looking at her more closely, as if her physical appearance would hint the answer.
"Mhmmm. Am I warm?"
Clara chuckled, "No."
"Physics?"
"God no."
Tony looked hurt, "What's wrong with physics? I majored in it. Well, that and engineering."
Clara straightened her spine a bit, "Nothing's wrong with it, I just wouldn't understand a thing."
"I could teach you; I've been told I'm a pretty good teacher."
"Maybe I don't want to learn about matter and energy and all that boring stuff."
Tony's mouth hung open, "Boring? Did you just call my life's work, boring?"
Clara looked up, pretending to think of an answer, "Yes. I did."
"Oh, missy, you gotta open up your mind."
Clara patted the air over her laptop, "I think I am just fine doing what I'm doing."
"Ok. Ok. I give up."
Clara gave him one last chance, "You sure? You were getting kind of close."
"Was I?"
"Not at all. I'm studying psychology."
Tony let out a groan, "That was my next guess."
Clara laughed, "No it wasn't."
"No, but I would've gotten there eventually."
Tony slid into the seat across from her.
"Student at New York University, pretty impressive."
Clara raised her eyebrows, "How did you-"
Tony pointed at the back of her laptop, Clara pulled the screen down and looked at her school's sticker plastered on the front.
"Oh," Clara replied, feeling silly.
Tony leaned back, folding his arms, "I'm a genius, not a mind reader."
Clara and Tony turned their heads to her coworker, Kathryn, who called out his name, placing his order on the pickup counter. Kathryn gave Clara a coy expression to which Clara rebutted with a menacing glare and pursed lips. She hoped Tony didn't catch that interaction. He swiftly grabbed his paper cup and walked back over. He took a minute to speak, as if mulling something over in his mind.
"Have you eaten yet?"
"I, uh, no, not yet," Clara said, as if there was a wrong answer to that question.
With his hand holding his coffee, he pointed to the door, "Let's get a late lunch. Or an early dinner. Whatever you like."
Clara looked perplexed, "Right now?"
How was he so brazen?
"A student's gotta eat, right?"
Clara looked down at herself and pawed at her clothes, "I'm not-"
"You look fine. C'mon. My treat."
Clare paused, then realizing this man was a man who never took no for answer and began packing away all her supplies. She quickly excused herself to the bathroom, saying she needed to use it before leaving, but really using it as a moment to collect herself. In the mirror, she did her best to refresh herself as best she could. Was she really about to go out to eat, impromptu, with Tony Stark? The messes she got herself into.
With a cold, wet hand towel, she tried cooling her face and fixed the mascara blemish on her lower lids. Clara rectified her sloppy ponytail and with one last look, and a deep breath, made her way back out.
With her leather computer bag strung over her shoulder, she followed Tony into the streets of New York, heart beating fast.
Author's Note: So now we get to anticipate more Tony and Clara time! I've got some really great chapters ahead and we are finally getting into it! The beginnings are always kind of slow but ya know, character development, blah blah blah.
Also are you guys starting to realize, Tony Stark isn't known as Iron Man yet? (I'm sneaky like that.) So neither does Clara. How do you think she'll react!? Don't worry, all in good time!
Thanks for the new follows and favorites! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and will try to have the next one up a litter faster! As always, happy ready!
