Chemical Poison

Anneliese sat quietly beside Howard as he drove his car towards her family home. It was unusually but predictably quiet. Deciding to stare ahead, she kept her eyes trained on the road: watching cars spread past, children rushing across the lights and plenty of men and women strolling down the walkways. 

Whereas, Howard filled the silence with his humming to some song on the radio. She knew one of his hands rested on the steering wheel - tapping to the beat - and the other rested on his thigh. 

 Never had she spent so much time alone with Howard, and usually Alexander was a buffer between the two; a friend to both of them. After all, he was her boss first... and a friend of a friend second. 

 It was unreal, and Anneliese had no idea how to approach the situation. For the first time, she was alone with him, and there was nothing she could say. This wasn't a normal car trip towards one of the many gala's Howard attended, where she would be filling him in on who was in attendance and who to stay away from. This was strictly leisure, no work discussion could be made... as he already knew everything from the meeting before. 

She had no clue what to say, having no idea of what he enjoyed, other than partying it down in Los Angeles with Alexander. 

How are they meant to 'fake date' if she knew nothing about him? 

"What are you thinking about?", Howard asked, his eyes remaining on the road. Stern as stone. "You're scrunching your nose. Usually that means you've thought of something that doesn't add up." 

Anneliese's eyes darted towards Howard and she instantly became aware that her nose had been scrunched. Relaxing her face, she continued to stare at him in confusion. 

He chuckled a bit before elaborating. "Before you correct someone, usually Theodore Edwards for his wrong calculations or Grey's terrible excuses to why his departmental costs had increased... you do this nose scrunch," He turned to face her, and scrunched his nose, almost mockingly. "I like to call it the 'Lorenz-is-about-to-correct-you' face." 

Widening her eyes, she shuffled in her seat to look outside her window. That was not a comment someone made to a work partner, but as friends. To avoid him, she continued to watch the cars beside her yell at the traffic. Until they caught sight of the car beside them, an exclusive model of Howard's latest creation. And suddenly staring outside seemed more difficult than before.The atmosphere in the car was awkward, but it was so much better than dealing with the passengers in the car from gawking at her... and at him. 

Sighing, she muttered, just loud enough for Howard to hear. "How are we meant to pretend that this relationship is real, when we don't know anything about one another?" 

Howard turned the car, as they begun cruising down her street. He hadn't even responded to Anneliese's question, instead he pulled up into her driveway and left the car. Waiting for Anneliese to make her way to the door to unlock the house, which she did slowly, and terribly. 

She was never good with keys. She would try inserting it, and they wouldn't fit... even when they were placed in correctly. Spending far too many minutes juggling them, she became thankful when she heard the CLICK of the door unlocking. 

Opening the door, she let Howard walk in first, who had the biggest smile on his lips. Anneliese could only assume he would comment about her inability to open the door. 

"Am I getting a house tour?", Howard asked. "I heard Alex got one, so it would be very unfair of you to not provide me the same offer." 

Rolling her eyes, she locked the door behind herself. Placing her bag on the wooden floor, and walked past Howard, slowly introducing her home to him. 

Immediately, the lounge room sat at the very entrance of the home. To the left is Josef Lorenz's armchair, an ugly green velvet, and beside that is a small dark oak wooden bedside table (acting as a coffee table). The flooring is a light pine, a contrast to the furniture scattered. In front of the arm chair is a mismatched black leather sofa, with an accompanying dark brown love seat. 

The left wall from the entrance, was a large window with outrageously expensive red curtains draping to the side. All the walls were covered in a subtle orange paint, with paintings scattered across them; all of them secretly made by the small German community in New York (It was how they helped support them financially without damaging their reputations). 

Towards the back of the room, sat the small circular dining table with four different wooden chairs, all the same colour but different intricate designs on the handles. And on the back wall was a large bookcase with a collection of scientific research papers her father had been collecting over the years. 

On the right of the entrance, was an open kitchen, with a bench separating the kitchen from the lounge room. The cupboards were a ghastly orange, contrasting the porcelain stove that rested on the right wall. One small stool sat behind the bench inside the kitchen, and no kitchen appliances could be seen on the counter. 

Anneliese walked him down hallway (only identified by the lilac strip of carpet in the open floor plan) towards the back of the house, which separated into three small rooms and a staircase. To her right was the bathroom, impossibly small which only had a white toilet, a standing shower, sink and washing machine, and to the left was a small study filled with overcrowding books on top of the large intimidating wooden desk and floor. Furtherest away towards the back was her father's room, the door wide open. 

It was just like the rest of the house, mismatched. A king size bed sat against the right wall of the room, a bookcase overflowing on the back wall and a small table filled with small mementos of her mother rested on the left wall; it was the only section of the room that made any sense. 

Hurrying Howard up the expensive marble staircase, a luxury her father decided he wanted. It lead up to the second floor, which was a completely room and square room.The walls were painted a soft grey with the same bed Anneliese has had since she moved to America. With the white bed standing on the left, it was impossibly tall with storage hidden underneath. Her quilting and pillows were all pink, a soft colour for the eyes. 

The back wall had a large square window to oversee the street in front of her house, simplistic black curtains tied in a knot to avoid getting dirty from the light wooden flooring. To the right, was a small white desk with a mirror to its left; underneath it was a light pink fluffy rug. Between the window and desk was a small rack of ironed clothes, and an ironing board and basket hid behind the desk.Lastly, right and left to the staircase entry was covered in books and a small cupboard of fabric and sewing needles. 

The room matched, unlike the rest of the house. The walls were not covered with any photographs, instead, they littered in books. She watched Howard glance over at the books, she knew curiosity was biting him alive for not asking 

"It's... quite the house", Howard said, his hands tucked into his pants pockets. 

Nodding her head. "Papa wanted to make it as cosy as possible, he said our home in Germany was too suffocating with the meticulous style and the purple and red colour palette." 

Howard's eyebrows raised but chose not to comment, instead, he asked. "How did you afford this house?" 

Anneliese knew he meant no disrespect, but regardless, she took offence. Walking towards Howard, who was standing in front of the bookcase, she picked up two photographs. 

"Firstly, the community I came out with shared the cost of food and housing... as it was cheaper to share then go our separate ways. Everyone paid the same amount, with exceptions made for larger and smaller families and individuals. Whilst living in a community, my father had no need to look after me when I wasn't at home, as their was plenty of women happy to do so. That allowed my father to open a business, called Leonard's, Queens' favourite hatter when he owned it." 

Pausing, she slowly slid her finger across the photograph. She was 16 in the photo, standing tall and proud next to her father. Behind them stood a small building with 'Leonard's' written across in thick white paint."I studied at home, so I had plenty of time to do ironing and mending clothes... That I made a small business out of it. Slowly... we made the funds to move from behind the shop to this house, but we had to take out a massive loan in my name. It wasn't until I started working for you, I managed to pay it off. I sold the car-" 

"You sold the car?", Howard exclaimed loudly, almost eruptively. 

"I sold the expensive jewellery and clothes-" 

 Howard's mouth was wide, "-Excuse me" 

"And every bonus went into paying off the loan, and sure enough... the bank messed up... and ended up owing us money in return. So, that ended up paying for the furniture, and the staircase and an increase in literature..." 

With his mouth still gaping, Anneliese ignored him as she placed the first photo down before she held the other one. This one, was hidden behind a photo frame, protected by nature and dirty hands.Her father had a few photos they had grabbed before they fled, but not that many, and he didn't have any of Anneliese with her mother. 

However, Anneliese hadn't realised that the bag she had packed had a photograph that her mother had given to her for her eleventh birthday.She was sitting down on her mother's lap, they were both wearing a matching green dress, as her father stood behind, in a well tailored black suit. It was the only current photo of the three without Hydra or Nazi propaganda placements, and the only photo Anneliese had with her mother smiling down at her, as she held her teddy bear. Below, a small kitten bed rested to the bottom corner of the photo, the kitten who slept in such a bed wasn't in the picture. 

"I assume that's your mother?", Howard whispered, looking over her shoulder. "She looks identical to you... but the chin?" 

 Anneliese nodded, "I have my father's chin." 

Placing the photograph down, the room stayed an uneasy silent. She felt vulnerable in showing Howard her childhood room, a room she hadn't wanted to change... even the colour of pink was the same as her room from Germany. She clung onto the happy memories of her childhood too tightly for a grown woman. 

"A secret for a secret?", Howard asked. "I'll offer one fact about myself for one in return." 

Turning in her spot to stand in front of Howard, she raised her head to meet his eyes. There was something intimidating about staring up to him. A man with power and influence. And a man that could destroy her entire career with the wealth he carried. 

He was utterly in control of everything he touched, and he made sure everyone was completely aware. Even the suit he was wearing, all black, seemed completely controlled as the smallest variation allowed everything to be seen as meticulously placed. From the dark grey-black tie to the silver chains and dark ebony pocket handkerchief, or the way the tailored pants made him look all the more taller. 

Even without the blazer, he looked the part of old money. He was a theatric performance, she would never know what act he would play next. So, when she looked up to him, to be engulfed by the gold of his eyes, and to be hypnotised by the way his lips twitched when his eyes trailed down her body. She couldn't feel intimidated by his power, but by him. He was not power, but power was Howard Stark. 

"I lied my way to the top," Howard said, no remorse in his words. "Faked birth certificates, bank statements and letters of recommendations. I've played the part of a fool and a lover, and I've played the role of the poor and the weak. All to get here, on the top of the food chain. I'm not the best example of a good man." 

His eyes were intense, his eyebrows furrowed in, as he whispered the last part. "The worst part is I'm terrified of what I'm building, about the lack of security in this world. If a man can fake everything to become a millionaire by my age, what does it mean for the war?" 

Anneliese's mind couldn't process what Howard was saying, as she was entrapped by him. Never had she felt so lost, and so weak when it came to a man, to a relationship. How was she meant to play a part that she never could imagine? 

"A secret for a secret," Anneliese whispered. "I used to believe in the German beliefs. I used to believe that my uncle, my mother and father could do no wrong. They were the adults in my life, and I believed their word as law. Why would my own family mean to harm me?" 

She felt him step closer, his chest touching hers. Her chin pointed up, her eyes gazing into his."I am still a proud German, but how can I be proud of my heritage... of my culture if I can't stand with my own country? How can I love my parents, my family... if they were so willing to start a revolution to make one man a God? I've played the part of an American for so long, my hair, my makeup, my accent, that I'm starting to forget who I am." 

Howard's hands rested onto her shoulders, "A secret for a secret?", he asked again, "To me, you're everything you wish you can be." 

 Anneliese's eyes lit up, daring to think numerous dangerous thoughts. Howard could be a good friend.

"A secret for a secret," she whispered one more time.She felt Howard's hands cup her cheek, a scolding burn that only seemed to comfort her. "This could work," she whispered, "But will you be willing to face the world once the secret is out? A street rat that lied his way, and a German who used to follow her own country without a second thought?" 

The smile Howard produced made her feel utterly drunk, she could drink in his smile as it felt exactly how vodka tasted. 

"If this isn't the story of America. To make something somewhat good from lies and misbeliefs, I don't know what is."