After he'd closed the door Gladio had stopped. He felt bad. He almost turned around and went back to apologise. But it was that thought that stopped him cold. There was no reason for him to apologise. What the hell was Tony thinking just just standing there naked? Had he really thought that would make things right? That somehow he could use his body instead of his words? Who the hell did he think Gladio was?
Any guilt he felt on closing that door was burned away by a fresh wave of anger that made him turn around and lock the damn door. No. Just in case the asshole thought he could sneak in. He was having none of that.
The next half hour saw Gladio drying the rest of the way and then crawling into bed. It took him a while to sleep, his mind racing, thoughts chasing each other around his mind until he thought he'd scream in frustration at them. But at some point he did fall asleep. Fitful as it was, it wasn't until the early hours before he actually got any quality sleep. It still wasn't enough.
When he woke the next morning he felt exhausted. He tried rolling over to try and sleep more, but with light coming in from the crack in his curtains, he knew he wouldn't be sleeping for much longer. It took way too long to get himself up and dressed, so he shoved a pair of pants on and headed to the bathroom. After splashing some water on his face and running a brush through his hair, Gladio headed down. Though he stopped on the stairs when he heard, and smelled, that Tony was up and cooking.
A childish part of him wanted to turn around and head back to his room. But he knew that would be ridiculous of him. He couldn't avoid Tony forever...
So he headed the rest of the way down... and looked a bit lost. Couch or kitchen table. Where...
He decided the couch. He dropped himself down onto it and grabbed the blanket from the back to cover his legs. A barrier between himself and the rest of the world.
no subject
Any guilt he felt on closing that door was burned away by a fresh wave of anger that made him turn around and lock the damn door. No. Just in case the asshole thought he could sneak in. He was having none of that.
The next half hour saw Gladio drying the rest of the way and then crawling into bed. It took him a while to sleep, his mind racing, thoughts chasing each other around his mind until he thought he'd scream in frustration at them. But at some point he did fall asleep. Fitful as it was, it wasn't until the early hours before he actually got any quality sleep. It still wasn't enough.
When he woke the next morning he felt exhausted. He tried rolling over to try and sleep more, but with light coming in from the crack in his curtains, he knew he wouldn't be sleeping for much longer. It took way too long to get himself up and dressed, so he shoved a pair of pants on and headed to the bathroom. After splashing some water on his face and running a brush through his hair, Gladio headed down. Though he stopped on the stairs when he heard, and smelled, that Tony was up and cooking.
A childish part of him wanted to turn around and head back to his room. But he knew that would be ridiculous of him. He couldn't avoid Tony forever...
So he headed the rest of the way down... and looked a bit lost. Couch or kitchen table. Where...
He decided the couch. He dropped himself down onto it and grabbed the blanket from the back to cover his legs. A barrier between himself and the rest of the world.