"Checkmate."
"Screw you, robot," she pouted, the mid-afternoon sun beating down through the park trees onto her back. As she rubbed her neck to relieve the heat a little, the collar of her wide-necked shirt slipped down over her other shoulder. "I should've known chess would be a bad idea against an anthropomorphic computer."
"I'm not a computer," Vision replied mildly. "What's that?" he nodded at the narrow black lines that ran over from her back.
"The reason I have to work every day of the week. Tattoos are freaking expensive," she said. She pulled her hair to one side to reveal the spindly black branches inked on her skin, running from just under her ear, down her neck and over her shoulder onto the blade. Instead of leaves, words ran along the branches.
"I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree," Vision read out.
"Yup. And it hurt to buggery."
"Then why did you get it?"
"Why do I watch scary movies? Why did I ask you to play me at chess? Why do I drink myself into oblivion on the last Sunday of every month? I'm self-destructive. It's one of my many flaws."
"Why the last Sunday of every month?" Vision asked.
"It's nice to have a schedule." She smiled as he laughed. "It's funny. You're so… pure."
"I'm still less than a month old," he reminded her.
"I know, it's just… most people, it would only take them a day in this world to find something they hate. That's what happened with Ultron, isn't it? But you act as if every little thing is some miracle- like, the way you were looking at me just now. Nobody ever looks at me like that."
"Then they're missing out," Vision replied.
"Smooth," she said. "Very smooth."
"What's wrong?" he asked her, as she rolled the rook piece between her thumb and forefinger.
"What? Nothing." She sighed. "I was late to work this morning and I hate being late, is all. Puts me in a bad mood."
"Really?" he asked. "I hadn't noticed."
"You know when I was talking about you being pure a minute ago? I take it back. You're a sarcastic asshole."
"Thank you," he said, and she pouted.
"You could have made a much better choice for your token normal person friend," she told him, sweeping the chess pieces into her bag.
"And yet here we are," Vision said.
She shrugged. "I'm a piece of shit, V. You're better off without me; as a rule, everyone is, I reckon. I… I can't do good stuff like other people. I'm a freaking gardener, not even a good one, a crappy gardener hell-bent on drinking herself into an early grave because I'm of no use to anyone. There are so many better people than me that you could spend time with." The niggling thoughts she had had all her life, created from her parents' snide comments and amplified by her loneliness since leaving home, all came tumbling out. "I'm of no use, Vision. No use to anybody."
"You think you're doomed," he said.
She pulled a hipflask out of her bag and unscrewed it. "Well, I'm dooming myself, I guess. Nothing better to do. I mean, I'll die anyway, so what's the point in wasting everybody's time?" That shocked even herself a little. "I mean… I don't want to die. I'm not like that, death is… freaking terrifying. But I'm going to anyway, so I might as well live fast and intoxicated, right?"
"You sound like someone else I once talked to," said Vision. "Except he thought on a somewhat larger scale. Eva, look at me." He leant forward and cool fingers lifted her chin, so she met his impossible eyes. "You are not perfect, nor should you want to be. You think that your flaws make you less of a person- a good person. But they are what make you human."
"Humanity's kinda crap anyway," she mumbled, "be glad you're not a part of it."
"It's people like you that make me wish I were a part of it." She raised an eyebrow at him. "I envy you your flaws, Eva. I think they're beautiful."
She closed her eyes and dropped her head so her forehead was pressed against his knuckles. "Stop flirting with me," she said weakly.
"Believe it or not, I wasn't trying to. I wouldn't want to step on Sam Wilson's toes."
She laughed. "You seriously think I'm not a waste of space?"
"Not in the least," he said firmly.
She stood up. "That makes one person, then. And one's all I need." She checked her watch as she dropped her flask back into her bag. "I gotta go, or I'll be late to class. Have a nice day Avenging."
"Enjoy your gardening."
A/N So after much deliberation, I reckon if I had to fancast Eva it would be Arryn Zech, for the following reasons: she has very pretty green eyes, her day job is a barista, and she lives in Austin. She's also not stereotypically drop-dead gorgeous, but I still really fancy her (as does Sam Wilson. Eva, that is. Not Arryn). Anyhoo, the quote she has in her tattoo is from a poem by Joyce Kilmer.