Taste of Apples
Summary:
My name is Lexi Roux. I am twenty-years-old and because I am just that awesome, I just recently graduated from Universite Paris Sorbonne, in Paris, France. I never expected my life to change so drastically after the death of my parents. I never really expected to have to put my life on hold, my Tante Maria telling me that my parents had been agents for some S.H.I.E.L.D. agency.
I guess Tante Maria never explained to these...Avengers, that I have what people call Synethesia. Every voice carries a taste. Every touch carries a sound.
Now, if I could just get the taste of apples out of my mouth and ignore the soft whispers against my skin.
Author's Note:
Lexi Roux is of my own creation. She is twenty years old and incredibly talented in Fine Arts. She also suffers from what is called Synethesia, which is where the brain confuses some of the sensory triggers. Voices cause her to taste flavors, music causes her to see metallic-shaded colors (compare it to the visualizers for ITunes or Media Players) and anything she touches she hears sounds. This doesn't effect her normal senses; sight, hearing or smell, it might sound confusing, but it won't seem so odd when you read on. She has been living in France for many years, so she uses some French terms, but did grow up in America so her first language is English.
Because I absolutely adore Tony Stark (there are so many different sides to Tony that makes him so...delicious), this will be a Tony/OC story.
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Avengers, or anything in relation to Marvel. The plot and Lexi are completely my own.
Enjoy!
Chapter Eight
Bitterness of the Past
There was once a girl, a girl I knew all-too-well. She carried a heavy burden on her shoulders and a fear of the world around her. She had been misunderstood by many and claimed outcast by all. She moved through her days, void of any feeling and fighting to keep the strain of life from collapsing on her. She had been talented beyond belief, but even then, she remained dissatisfied by what life had to offer. She had been more human than others could see.
But she was dead inside.
She felt nothing toward those around her. Even as she watched people, everyday as they moved through their mundane lives. She picked up on human habits. She knew when people lied. She could tell when people were uncomfortable. She could see behind the masks of faked personalities. She could see everything, see beyond what others could, see what most wished never to be seen.
"Lexi Roux?"
This is exactly why I tried, in every possible way, to avoid this place. Seeing the clear disdain in the eyes looking me over, I felt the faint remnants of the person I used to be solidify and begin to take hold. The void of inescapable emptiness slowly began its growth within the core of my chest as I look over the overly-made-up face and luscious hair. The designer dress hugging a figure of unmentionable beauty and seems as though it had been made for the body it deigns.
"Yes?" I respond, feeling an age-old sense of boredom coat my greeting and I am sure a dark, emotionless gleam takes over my gaze.
"Talk about people never changing," the girl retorts, her gaze sweeping over my own dress, "Where did you find such a dress?"
Glancing down at my soft aquamarine-green dress, I wonder what exactly is wrong with it. The strapless bodice hugs my torso, while the skirt flares out, dusting over my kneecaps. Black lace, in a floral design, decorates the entire span of the skirt, and the grey material beneath the skirt (allowing it to remain it a consistently flared state) gives the dress an edger look. Black, elbow-length gloves covers the expanse of my forearms, matching the black stiletto heels donned on my feet.
"I made it," I state, trying to ignore the reflexive wince begging to release at the sight of the soft, pink, floor-length gown this other woman is wearing, "Speaking of stereotypes, did you get the idea for your dress from you 'My Size' Barbie? I remember them designing a dress like that for children."
"Oh? The Queen of Snark really hasn't changed," I fight the urge to roll my eyes, opting to continue the 'bored' look. "So? What drug-induced hazed gave you the idea for that dress?"
I bite the inside of my cheek. I almost miss the old days, when my life had been void of emotional turbulence. When I wouldn't bat an eyelash at her remark. When I didn't have friends, people who treat me far better than I deserve. Now, that I have a taste of what family and friends is like, it is hard to let comments such as her's slide without second thought.
"There you are, Lexi," pumpkin-pie filters through the sickeningly sweet flavor of confectionery sugar, "Oh, is this a friend of your's?"
I manage a snort, glancing over at Steve as he passes me a glass of punch, "Oh yes. We were so close back in the day that she ate my fist for lunch."
The beauty smiles tightly at my remark, and I am pleased that I still manage to get under people's skin (it's a gift, honest), before her eyes take in Steve's handsome features and muscular physique, "I'm Amber Coxley."
"Steve Rogers," the out-of-his-time Soldier replies curtly, picking up on the obvious tension.
"So, how did Lexi Roux of all people manage to snag a handsome guy like you?" Amber questions, "You aren't into that shit too, are you?"
"I beg your pardon, Miss, but I have no idea what you are talking about. Lexi is a dear friend," Steve states, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
Amber gestured the length of his body, "Your tight bod. Don't tell me you fell down the same gutter as the walking Gateway Drug."
"You look hungry, Coxley," I remark, referencing to the day I snapped and punched her in the face during our Lunch Period.
Seeing a deeply veiled hint of fear as I step forward, Amber snorts as she steps back, "Same old, Roux. A freak back then, still a freak now. Just so you know, Steve, this pathetic basket case isn't worth your time."
Watching as she saunters off, still acting as though she owns the place, I growl inwardly, "Putain," I hiss under my breath, before turning to Steve, "Tell me again why you guys thought this was a good idea?"
"You've hardly left your room since you came back from visiting your friend's family, and you need to get out," Steve comments carefully, before looking around the decorated dance hall, "What did she mean? Calling you the walking Gateway Drug?"
I sigh, running my hands through my tangled curls. Motioning for him to follow, I lead him outside and instantly light up a cigarette. Thinking it over, I inwardly wince at the horde of memories rushing through my mind. The memories I hate to remember. The hollow pit along the core of my chest, flowing outward and throughout my entire body. The heavy sense of self-hate and just a general disgust for the world around me.
"Due to my...condition, I never really went out of my way to make friends when I was attending the Academy," I pause, taking a long drag from the cancer-inducing tube, "My parents were always busy. I didn't really understand anything about my Synethesia. My social ineptness caused a lot of other students during my school days to view me as the social outcast. Amber Coxley had been the bane of existence. A girl who had such talent, such beauty and could essentially become anything she wanted. Yet, she wasted it on her stupidity and her own self-gain on a social scale."
"What does that have to do with being referred to-"
"I was a bad kid," I interrupt, looking down at the ground, trying to fight back the age-old emotions, "Therapy didn't help, my parents didn't know how to respond to it and I didn't know a single person I could relate to. I...ended up being caught up doing some less than morally correct things to get rid of the emptiness in my life."
"So...you used drugs?" Steve questions, obviously not believing the words.
"Not as much as Coxley lead you to believe. Just...some times, I was weak. You and the rest of the team have this idea that I'm...perfect, or completely innocent. For the most part, I am, but when the only person you can consult on a regular basis is yourself, you end up with a twisted sense of perception," I fight the urge to look over at the man standing by my side, "Back then, my sensory switch-up caused me more trouble than it does now. I didn't understand how it worked, I didn't really understand how to combatant the constant flux of flavor while surrounded by a large mass of people. I left school with a migraine every single day, and it grew to a point where I didn't want to do it anymore. As pathetic as it sounds, getting into that mess of mind-numbing hallucinogenics had been the only way to cope in a manner that didn't cater to the idea of snuffing myself out."
"T-That must have been very difficult for you," Steve comments, and I spare him a quick glance before looking away from the odd glint in his eyes, "I can't imagine what you must have gone through. Can I ask what changed?"
"Graduating and getting out of this hell hole," I remark, a mildly-pleasant tone coating my bland voice, "The moment I had been accepted into the University, I left and never looked back. It was the summer after graduating that I went to the doctors and they told me about different ways of coping with the Synethesia. I met Jacquot and the past didn't matter anymore."
Shaking my head, trying to clear away the horrible thoughts, I excuse myself from Steve's side, claiming the need for a bathroom. Seeing the pale features staring back at me from the mirror, I shake my head before taking some paper towels, soaking them in cold water and patting my face gently. Closing my eyes as the cold compress work to bring down the influx of bad memories, I sigh inwardly. I hated my life back then. I hated being so young and successful. I hated being so mixed up and so screwed up that I couldn't tell a person what day of the week it had been, nor what was said five minutes prior. My emotional capacity had been so sorely limited.
"Did your date figure out just how pathetic you are?"
Slowly and deeply, I inhale as I open my eyes, staring into the mirror to see Amber Coxley standing behind me, flanked by two other women. Vaguely remembering the pathetic girls that followed her every whim, I realize that these people would never change. I'm sure I have. I had wanted to change, to put the painful, drug-induced past behind me. I wanted to be better than I had been.
"Are you even listening to me?" Amber hisses, a veil of annoyance coating her gaze.
Hm...I wonder if I should just walk away. Give her the same satisfaction she had back then. The same bout of superiority that she carried for so long. I may have changed, but I'll be damned if someone like her thinks she's better than me.
"Non." I respond, seeing her eyebrows knit together, "Do you listen to yourself? Because I'm sure you'd realize how pathetically juvenile you are acting."
"Juvenile? So says the freak hiding in the bathroom."
I quirk a solitary eyebrow, knowing how much a lack of emotional response bothers her more than anything, "Please tell me you aren't purposely seeking me out in an attempt to catch me unaware?"
"Why would I bother trying to seek out someone so pathetic as you? I bet you think you're real cute, huh? Parading around with that hunk of meat? Did you pay him?"
"Don't forget about that gala a while back. The one where she was seen with the Jacques Mason and the Tony Stark," one of the women next to Amber says, pointing in my direction.
I blink, my attention turning to her, "Oh? Are you a fan of Jacquot's? He is extremely talented, non?"
"Wait? You're actually friends with Jacques Mason?" the woman asks, surprised.
Completely ignoring Amber's growing fury, I nod, allowing my lips to tug into a smirk, "Oui, Jacquot and I both attended the same University. He had actually been my roommate. A bit of a nutcase, but very talented."
"Oh I know! His use of such vibrant colors against the darker equivalents is so brilliantly done. Every single one of his pieces I think I fell in love with. Did you meet Tony Stark at that gala?"
Slightly surprised by the turn of events, I shake my head, "Non, I met Tony a few weeks before that night. Tony is actually a very dear friend of mine."
"There is no way the Tony Stark is friends with a twisted little freak like you. For what reason? You dress like a freak. Your artwork is morbid, disturbing and quite frankly could use some color. You hardly talk, and when you do you piss people off. You are the most disturbing individual I've ever met. In what universe is Tony Stark a friend to Lexi Roux?" Amber visciously spits out.
"Apparently, this one," I point out, smirking as she becomes more riled up with each passing comment. "I find it amusing that there is someone more arrogant than Tony is."
"Tony Stark is only arrogant because he has every right to be. Especially if he's spending time with someone as inferior as you," Amber sneers, and I can't help the minor twitch in my eyebrow at her last words, causing her anger to quickly fade into realization, "Oh...Oh, please tell me it's not true," Laughter rings through her voice, "Lexi Roux has fallen for the charms of Tony Stark. You actually think Tony Stark is going to fall in love with someone like you? That's like a Prince marrying a peasant. Tony Stark is not a man that falls for someone beneath his status."
"Tony is different than you think," I argue, but even I can hear the weakness of my words.
"Oh yes. Tony, a billionaire who believes himself to be God's gift to women everywhere, is a saint. Everyone knows what Tony Stark is like. He's handsome, sure. A genius, yes. Wealthy, obviously. Someone that's going to stick around when things get tough? Ha! Tony is a man that fears commitment," Amber cackles.
My fingers curl into a tight fist. My thoughts flash to Tony. He may not be the best when it comes to relationships, but to say he fears commitment? He carries a commitment to the people, developing energy-saving technology. He carries a commitment to being Iron Man, saving those in need. He carries a commitment to the agency and his fellow team members, he is Iron Man.
"If I were you, I would stop speaking of others as though you know them," I state slowly, feeling my words harden and grow darker with each passing word.
"What? You think you know Tony better than the world? Tony Stark may have some fascination with you at the moment, but once he learns how much of a freak you are, mark my words, he'll be gone."
"Amber, stop," one of the women next to her says, tugging on her elbow, "Leave Lexi alone."
"Don't be such a spoil sport, Tabitha," Amber sneers. "Really, if Tony thinks so much of you, Roux, then why are you here with another man? Trying to make him jealous?"
"Do you remember, so long ago, when you called me out in the middle of Lunch?" I insinuate, watching the slightest hint of fear flicker in her gaze, "I may not be the same person that I used to be, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let a putain like you speak of my friends in such a manner."
A snort sounds as Amber turns her back to me, "You aren't worth the effort."
I watch carefully as she walks off, one of her flunkies shooting me a glare while the other murmurs a soft apology. I hate these people. I hate the memories they force me to recall. I hate the person I once was. My life had been so different then, so mixed-up and oppressive. I now have people that show concern for me, that go out of their way to make sure I am comfortable. The whole team of heroes, who are capable of doing anything.
Including looking past my differences.
As the night comes to an end, and I find myself lying on my bed, the familiar void of emptiness surrounds me. Echoing in the depths of my mind, Amber's words reverberate through everything. When I just thought my life couldn't be more complicated, when I figured out what life has to offer, the past finds a way to plant a seed, heavy with doubt and self-loathing. Curling into a tight ball, I close my eyes, blocking the view of the world. Sadly, I know Amber is right in one of her statements.
Tony would never return such feelings. Not to a screw-up freak of nature like me.
A little angst, but I wanted you guys to understand a bit of Lexi's past that has influenced her to be the person she is now. Though she has a deep love for what life has to offer, it hadn't always been that way. Her Synesthesia was not well-known of back then, so she had no way of coping. I wanted you to understand that Lexi is not as innocent as she seems, but when it comes to emotional situations and becoming involved with people on an emotional level, in that manner, she is completely innocent. Lexi hates, absolutely hates how weak she believes she had been back then, and remains sober and clean because of it. Yes, Amber is your typical Queen of the School, but every school has one of those.
Sorry about taking a while to update. I haven't been feeling the greatest and a lot of stuff has occurred recently in my life that has taken me off focus. I do hope this chapter bears some insight into Lexi's life, because the next chapter will be more fun. I am planning on making a Halloween chapter, but I want costume ideas. I want ideas that are outrageous, different, ideas that are... non-conventional. Any ideas that I use from my reviewers will be cited as their idea.
Onto my reviewers!
To the Anonymous Reviewer: Thank you. Once I get into a story I am writing, it just continues to flow. I am glad you are enjoying the story.
Katielee97: Ooohhh...I don't want to give too much away, but you are catching onto something. I hope this chapter pleases you.
Missing A Muse: Yes, Jacquot is gay. I love gay guys. Not the macho-man, but the flamboyant ones are my favorite. No, that wasn't what I was going for, but you did catch the underlying 'gaydar'.
watergoddesskasey: It's alright. Stuff like that happens. I am pleased you are still enjoying it.
Ravenclaw Slytherin: Thanks again!
Crystal-Wolf-Guardian-967: I think so too...-lol-
Ali: Yes. Yes he is.
xxxRena: Awww...your review was too sweet. I do enjoy how Tony and Lexi are developing.
Beshineshi: Thanks! I'm glad you are paying attention to your classes...the French class should help -lol- Yes...Clint and Tony will be taking care of her.
...Wow...I must say, to the sudden influx of silent minions makes me very pleased. Thanks so much for your silent 'yay!' for the story.
Remember, send those ideas for costumes.
Until Next Time!