Being friends since practically birth was a long time to be friends with somebody.

But it was worth it. You loved your best friend Stephanie.

You had been around her family so much in all of the years you’d been friends that you were considered family. You could walk into her house and no one would bat an eye.

And it was the same with you; your father loved Steph like she was his own, and spoiled her like she was a his.

You were technically cousins in your parent’s eyes, considering you were a Stark and she was Barnes with a side of Romanoff. But that just made you closer.

You did almost everything together. She was always the popular one between the two of you, since she was bubbly, bright, and had a laugh that made the other people around her join in.

You were the quiet one, the one that people wondered ‘Why is she friends with her?’ The moonlight to her sunshine. You were the brains, she was the beauty.

And tonight was something that was completely ordinary for the two of you. A sleepover at her house.

She had one of those trundle bed, the bed with the mattress that rolled out from under it, and it was practically your bed. You had a pillow and a blanket that stayed in the top of her closet, too.

But you couldn’t sleep tonight. Natalia had told you girls goodnight at least three hours ago, saying James was in his office working on politician stuff, and to not get too loud.

You sat up, looking at Steph asleep on her bed, her red curls around her like a halo, her eye mask a little sideways on her face.

You carefully and quietly pushed the blanket off yourself, adjusting the white, linen pajama shorts you had on as you walked to the bedroom door, quietly slipping out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen.

Maybe a drink will help. Just to hydrate yourself before trying to go back to bed, ya know?

But you knew why you couldn’t sleep. Her dad. You’d had a silly, childish crush on James for as long as you could remember, to the point your father would tease you about it when you were younger. And you’d managed to convince him that you’d grown out of it. But it has always lingered within you.

But he knew. He had to’ve, because you remembered your dad telling Natalia that you had a crush on her husband when you were younger. And you also remembered not being able to look Natalia in the eyes for at least three months after that.

You walked to the kitchen, bending slightly to pet Alpine as she tread over to you, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water.

“Not tired?” A voice said.

You turned, letting Alpine weave through your ankles, seeing James lean against the doorframe of his office in the hall, a glass of whiskey in his flesh hand.

God, how you wanted the metal hand on you.