A Knot in the Stomach
“Hey, come on, this mission report isn’t gonna report itself,” Tony Stark’s voice floated somewhere above your head.
A warm hand pressed into your shoulder, shaking you gently to rouse you from your half-sleep state.
The desk you’ve been trying to take a nap at was littered with papers and documents — work you were supposed to be doing, and not to mention the tedious mission report.
You lift your head up, murmuring, “I’m up, I’m up…” to Tony as his hand gripped your shoulder a bit tighter.
You could feel Tony’s eyes assessing you for a hot moment before he promptly nodded, patting your shoulder and walking off to go finish whatever he had been working on.
You sighed, picking up the sheet of paper and scanning your droopy eyes over it.
Last night’s sleep was shit — if you could even call it sleep. Tossing and turning, itchy thighs, and a hot room; You were exhausted.
Your thighs still burned from the cuts too — they had been deeper than they usually were.
You’ve been trying to cut back on the cuts, honestly, but everything’s been so… ugh, lately. So multifaceted and mixed up — jumbled and overwhelming.
It doesn’t matter, you reminded yourself, shaking your head and taking a deep breath to center yourself.
This mission report isn’t gonna report itself…
——
An hour or so later, you sat at the desk, the papers neatly stacked in a pile, all the reports and documents enough looked over.
It was around lunch now, and your stomach rumbled sickeningly.
Food sounded to be about the worst thing right now.
But you hadn’t eaten breakfast for the same reason.
It was getting harder and harder to eat everyday.
You stood, deciding you’d try and eat something if it meant keeping you conscious.
As you stood, you saw black dots and that familiar swimming sensation in your head, the churning of your stomach, and the weakness in your ribs, so you slammed back down into the seat.
Shit.
Just then, Tony passed the hallway, glancing over at you heaving heavy breaths in your seat. You made eye contact and he smiled softly — a kind of soft smile that made your stomach feel even emptier.
You breathed a bit easier when he had disappeared down the hall.
Though Tony had disappeared off down the hall, you still felt a bit prickly, the sensation of being watched — a typical feeling when you were in the Tower.
FRIDAY was a constant annoyance when you were working in the Tower somewhere; she was always watching, and could, and probably would, report anything to Tony, meaning you had to be extra careful about hiding everything.
Tony then appeared back in the hallway, giving a small wave as he dropped some papers off on another desk in the same room as you. You watched him warily — what did he need?
”So, y/n, I’m starving, sure you are too, I also have money, and one of those really good, family owned Chinese places is right down the street there,” Tony said, raising an eyebrow in question.
Chinese food with… Tony? It was better than eating alone — it was better than not eating at all.
“Uhm, sure,” you answered, smiling best you could for him.
“Great. I’ll have some ordered,” Tony murmured, opening up his phone and clicking through it — seemingly ordering the food.
Tony strolled up to the desk you were sitting at, more focused on his phone as he pulled up a chair from nearby, sitting in front of you.
The food arrived in no time at all, being brought in by one of Tony’s hired employees, set on the desk in front of you, it’s aroma intoxicating as it flooded your senses.
It made you a bit nauseous, thinking about all the food, but you sucked it up, taking aside a small portion for yourself while Tony took his.
The food looked appalling.
A knot tied itself in your stomach.