Chemical Poison

It took Anneliese over an hour to pick up the dress, another twenty to put it on. The dress felt expensive. Fabric sliding through her fingers as she slowly brushed herself down, getting rid of the imaginary dust. Just from staring down, she knew the dress flattered her body. With the middle of the dress pulled sharply by a thin piece of red fabric around the waist. The neckline dropped dangerously low, showing more cleavage than Anneliese - or any respectful woman would show. And the dress hung tight at the top and draped much like curtains on the bottom.

The dress itself was exquisite, if only she could ignore the colour.

She didn't need to find a mirror, as Howard's bedroom was decked in far too many. Only needing to glance up, and she found herself staring back at her, the same beady eyes that cultivated her hatred for such a colour. The deep red no longer comforting, but a damning punishment for the sins of everyone but her. To be thrown into hellfire for actions of another.

Red was a domineering colour. It required a skill to pull off. Anneliese's mother was too pale to wear such a dark colour, and her father too stern to offer any entertainment for red. But Anneliese, she was raised to wear the colour. It was the colour of power, the colour of success and the colour of control.

It was Johann Schmidt's colour, and she was damned to have the same fate.

Never did she expect a colour to have such a chokehold on her, to leave her completely helpless to such a sight. Yet, Anneliese struggled to breath as she continued to stare at herself.

Dressed in the red of roses.

Roses she used to grow in Germany.

Anneliese believed herself dramatic for her fears for such a colour, considering she hadn't seen her garden for so long. She barely remembers the birthday's of those she is close too, and yet she remembers the exact shade.

With her eyes closed, her heart thumping in her ears - she did not hear the squeak of the door as Howard opened it. Nor did she hear the whistle or the insult that it took her over an hour just to get a dress on - that he could remove that very dress in a manner of minutes if she allowed it.

However, she did hear his suggestion to skip the entire event in favour of creating a scandal in the sheets. 

Snapping her eyes open, she only glared as she continued to stare at herself in the mirror. Having to repeat to herself far too many times that Alexander could not have known the connotation this colour was. That it was a promise of a future she did not want, a future where she meets family once more.

"I'm changing the clothes requirements at Stark Industrials," Howard said slyly. He was leaning against the door, and Anneliese could feel his gaze wonder over the dress. She could only assume he was fantasising what lived under... that thought enough was to rid all previous fears and recollections of the roses in the her old garden.

With an arch of her eyebrow, she prompted him to continue. Knowing he needed no such confirmation for him to speak, as Howard Stark spoke when he wanted to.

"All secretaries to the CEO is now required to either wear the dress they have on currently, or nothing at all."

Mouth gaping; closed and then open. It took all her willpower to even comprehend what Howard had exactly said. In his defence, she thought, she should have expected him to say such a thing. Minutes passed and so did Howard's growing smile. He remained standing at the door, but his eyes remained on hers. Blazing with what she assumed was want.

Want that she refused to give.

Coming to her senses, Anneliese sharply turned around to the small make-shift counter Howard had sourced for her to do her makeup. Deciding that she'd do very little to change her usual make-up, as she didn't want to attend the event - nearly as much as Howard. 

"I do believe you mean secretary. However, if such a rule does come into place..." Anneliese begun to say, slowly powdering her face as she forgo reapplying any based makeup. The mess Alexander has made by ruining her night meant she would not waste her make-up on him. "You'll find yourself without a secretary."

Howard was now behind her, she could see him from the corner of her eye as she carefully applied a slightly darker brown to her eyelids. A nice gold shimmer on top, and in the inner corners. Even with the limited view, Anneliese was certain that Howard was a sight for sore eyes as he always made every suit combination work.

Even the atrocious suit from the morning. Especially that one.

Working on her lips, she managed to find a lip colour that matched the deep red dress. Once she was done, Anneliese had stopped caring about the event entirely. Opting to not do her hair and let her usually dead hair fall to her back. A small curl from being in a bun all day long.

Perhaps she would have cared more if she knew that her appearance would be nitpicked regardless. She cared more in the beginning, more so when she first started to fake date Howard. her body confidence declined dramatically, as every outfit she wore was criticised. Her strange makeup shunned and unusual hair mocked. She had to grow a thicker skin...

...or maybe she realised their was more scary things in society then her appearance. That... that could haunt her after the war, if she makes it. She can fall into the same trap as every other woman falls into, the hatred of her body and appearance. Once... once all her other fears are eradicated.

It was terribly hard for Anneliese to hate herself when history plagued her every thought.

Stepping away from the make-shift table, she turned to find Howard directly in front of her. A black case open in front of her. She would have gasped a few years ago. However, she was nearly annoyed by the gesture. 

"I don't want to wear the jewellery you buy." Anneliese said as her eyes glanced over the pearl necklace that rested against the black fabric box. A matching pearl earring and bracelet accompanied it.

He sighed, as she placed the box onto the bed. Picking up the pearl necklace. "As your boss-"

"-If you pull rank. I will quit right now."

Howard swiftly wrapped the necklace around her neck, whispering in her ear. "Then, as your boyfriend-"

"-I will break up with you.."

His groan cut her off as he clasp the necklace around her neck, moving onto the earings. "Sweetheart, I do not care if you don't want to accept these gifts. But I refuse to enter Grey's fucking-"

A chirp came from Anneliese. Howard chuckled lightly as he continued, brushing her hair from her ear. "Dinner without you dressed in the best a man can buy."

She shivered under his touch, as he moved even closer to her face, staring directly at her ears as he fixes the earring in place. Doing the same for the other. Standing still, unable to move from whatever cursed magic and control Howard had over her when he spoke lowly. She could only stare as Howard clasped the bracelet around her left hand, the pearls complementing her dress enormously.

"And if it makes it any better," Howard whispered, staring down at Anneliese as he straighten his back. A dangerous grin appeared across his lips. "It was Alexander's paycheque that has paid for the jewellery."

That, in fact, did make accepting the jewellery better.

Arriving at the venue, Anneliese wanted to be sick. She could clearly see the over the top layout that every guest would be punished with upon entry. There were crowds and the press, and Anneliese did not want to leave the vehicle. More interested to know about Mr Jarvis' plans for his evening with his wife.

But Howard had other plans. He wanted to get it over and done with.

So, that was how Anneliese found herself feeling sick to the stomach as Howard's arm rested around her waist as they walked towards the entrance to one of the many estates the Grey's owned. More so embarrassing was the red carpet that directed guests from the road to the grand door.

Shifting closer to Howard, she whispered in his ear. "What is Alexander's thing for red carpet? He signed off for the front foyer carpet to be changed to red."

She was greeted by a chuckle as Howard pulled her ever so closer. Whispering in her ear, "He believes it will be the next big thing. A red carpet event."

Rolling her eyes, Anneliese came to the conclusion that Alexander was just an over the top type of man. Of course, she was already aware of his tendencies for anything extravagant. But this? This tipped him beyond that.

Every few steps, Howard could stop her and they would turn to smile. It all came too naturally to Anneliese: a smile with no teeth showing, a slight squint to the eye and a gentle nod. This was the accents of her past, dressed in the luxury of wealth and made by the dangers of power.

Even with the camera's flashing, a usual cause of Anneliese's anxiety, she managed to stay tall next to Howard. Leaning far too much of her weight into Howard's side for her liking, growing more dependent on him the further into the crowd of flashes, Anneliese had never felt so weak. And the looming thoughts of weakness... that everything she had been trying to convince herself for the past months seemed to evaporate.

Howard Stark was a weakness, loving him was a weakness.

Her hands suddenly felt cold, freezing.

Arriving to the front, they were instantly greeted by a waiter, dressed in all white, who directed them through the Grey Estate. No words were exchanged as they entered the ballroom, draped with magnificently red curtains. Some were closed and the fabric of the curtains screamed power, and the others that were left to the side - Anneliese could see the mosaic of glass in the windows... over looking the Grey estate many, many gardens. 

The numerous dinning tables covered in a shiny white table cloth caught her eye, especially the intricate golden embroidery of flowers and suns on the rim of it. Reminding her of the type of table clothes she used to sew with her mother, the memory stung far too sharply against her heart. However, her bewildered gaze instantly dropped when she realised that most of the tables were already filled with guests.

They were most certainly, the last to arrive.

Snapping her gaze to Howard, watching as his confidence falter as he realised the same conclusion she made. The two quietly followed the waiter towards their table, covered in an assortment of white ceramic plates and glasses - all rimmed with gold on the top. In fact, on her slow walk towards the table, she noticed that the whole dinning room was littered in gold - a seemingly favourite of the grey family. The room itself felt bright, airy and it did not remind her of her home in Germany.

This was a new type of old money wealth.

She used to live with old money.

Where art work would be in her old ancestral home, was photographs and strange (and probably exotic) plants. She would have argued that gold and red needed to be balanced, whereas the America population had no issue in flaunting both the ability to access red dye and gold in immeasurable lengths. 

The room stunk of wealth insecurity, the need to flex their money. And Anneliese couldn't help her lip from curling into a smile.

They were seated at the top dinning table with the entire Grey family on the overtly large circular table. Her eyes scanned across the table, noting that between Harold Locke and Alexander were two seats available. Clearly Alexander realised the trouble he would faced if either of them had to speak to a stranger.

Alexander stood up to greet them. First, she greeted him with a kiss to both side of his cheeks. Second, Howard shook his hand. Anneliese waited until Howard pulled her seat out before she sat down, and smiled up at him as he pushed her in. All before he took his own seat. Smiling a small hello to Harold, she allowed Alexander. to make the introductions.

Before he could speak, Anneliese had already scanned the table. Noting that Mr Grey sat opposite to Alexander, a rather young woman sat next to him with an overtly large diamond ring on her finger. To their left, Anneliese instantly knew he was George, one of Alexander's older brothers. Next to him was the next brother, Samuel - who much to her dismay, acted exactly how Alexander described him as. Far too interested in his new stepmother.

However, there was nothing stopping the nearly inaudible gasp from her lips as her eyes landed on Fredrick, the oldest of the Grey sons. His wife seated next to him and their many sons. She studied him, cataloging the way his eyebrows quirked at hers, his lips curling into a sneer and how his face seemed to be contorted eerily. His presence reminded her too much of Oskar, and this overwhelmed her.

Catching Howard's hand over the table, he glanced confusely at her. But no questions begun as Alexander damned them both through his introduction.

"Howard Stark-"

He was introduced by Fredrick, even his voice was far too similar. Cursed with a tangy silver to each word he sharply said. "Alex, we already know Stark. But we don't know the lovely lady next to her."

Crinkling her nose slight as he bared his unnaturally white teeth at her. She hated it. Even if he didn't exactly look like Oskar, after all the Grey's were blonde and far too pale, and Oskar had a dark brown hair like her own. The resemblance was far too uncanny.

"That would be Anneliese," Alexander begun, raising his already filled whiskey glass, "My boss."

At his declaration, she watched George, the brother that seemed to show the biggest resemblance of Alexander - especially with his kind smile - snort. Howard following along Alexander's slightly inaccurate description of her job in agreement.

All tension in her shoulders slipped away as their introductions concluded. 

Small chattered begun, Anneliese speaking in only whispers to Alexander as Howard was far too busy talking business with Harold. She begun with a threat to murder him, followed by the request for him to demand the best red wine in his family cellar and self it for her. Of course, Alexander leisured in the demand, his smile increasing as his father struggled to confirm his request.

As dinner was served, a rather buffet of vegetables, some mushed meat and countless fruits. Anneliese was instantly put off. It wasn't as if she wasn't accustomed to the strange food American's eat, but she had her preferences... and if she could go without... she most certainly went without. 

"It looks rather revolting, doesn't it?", Anneliese whispered into Howard's ear. Who was helping himself to a serving of some sort of meat on bones.

He chuckled under his breath, "After so many meals, you'll learn what is good and what's not."

Smiling, Howard placed his plate in front of himself and picked up Anneliese's, putting some of the salad and some mushed up meat on her plate. The sight of it made her sick, unable to conceal the sour look that took over her face. It smelt disgusting. Too little seasoning and far too much salt.

Howard placed the plate in front of her, whispering a simple, "Just try it, and if you don't like it. I'll-"

"You'll do what?", Anneliese asked, an eyebrow raised as she turned to face him. 

His smile slipped into a smirk as he whispered in her ear, "I'll finish the plate."

Staring him up and down, meeting his eyes after. Anneliese tested her luck. "I expect you to make something editable when we get to my place."

The second the words slipped from her mouth, she realised the connotation.

So did Howard.

Grins shouldn't be able to get so large, and yet Howard's seemed to grow even more. His smile was a liquid sunshine, warming her up completely. If he was disease, Anneliese would welcome the infection. All for the gratifying burn he causes, every time.

"Your place, huh?"

Rolling her eyes, she was saved by her name being called from across the table. Instantly meeting the eyes of the voice, her blood dropped. All the air forced out from her lungs and she suddenly felt very cold. It was terrifying to stare into his eyes, even with the bright blue no where similar to Oskar's black; the meaning behind held the same story.

She didn't instantly reply. She had no reason, as the room seemed to slow down in front of her. As if she was the only one able to see time itself. It was frightful, and perhaps this was what panic looked like. It wasn't always the rapid thumping of hearts and burning red ears, for her, in this very moment. It was unrelenting terror, and it showed its face through the freezing abyss.

Closing her eyes, she built herself up slightly. A single brick at a time. One for every body she's watched be buried. Another for every wound she had inflicted and another for every scar that traced her stomach. A brick for her Jenna, and another for her mother. All this, made a wall.

Oskar was not in America, he couldn't be. And even if he was, her wall in her mind would protect her.

And this was the before of the dinner. The beginning of the end.

"Alexander neglected to inform us of your surname."

Numbed by her own walls, a sort of meditation, it ran straight past her. She sent him a questionable glance, confused by his question. He elaborated.

"My wife says she hasn't seem you at previous conventions..."

The question became clear in her mind. It was the easiest way to ask, without asking, if she was new money. If she was even had a wealthy background. 

With her lips tight, Anneliese's gaze rested on his wife. Currently pregnant (again) staring at her curiously. Clearly they knew exactly who she was, her name and face made an appearance nearly every week in the newspaper. This was a test, and it wasn't the first time an American has given her this type of question.

"Lorenz, Anneliese Lorenz." 

The table seem to stiffen at her name. Mumbles vibrated around as they easily identified the obvious german hereditary in her last name. It did not help her case as she intentionally dropped the American accent, opting for her native accent.

A stifled cough from Mr Grey, as the sound of cutlery chipping the plates resumed. The main conversation being between Harold, Howard and Mr Grey about their business adventures. Specifically profits and new ideas for the future of Stark Industrials. Eventually, the conversation shifted to Anneliese. When this happened, she was unsure.

Regardless, her career at Stark Industrials was being analysed.

"What is it exactly that Miss Lawrence does?"

Quietly groaning to herself at the purposely mispronunciation of her surname by Samuel. Flicking her gaze at Howard, she watched his jaw clench. Clearly annoyed at the mistake.

After finishing his mouth full of food, Howard begun.

"Usually, she is my Press Secretary and third in command." He stated, loud enough for the tables behind to hear. "However, Stark Industrials is currently in partnership with the American Government for the war cause. So, she is now busy with leading-"

"-Leading?" Fredrick interrupted, his whiskey glass in his hand.

Her gaze remained on Howard, her fingers finding his hand under the table. Slowly, Anneliese interlaced her fingers with his as he continued to speak, ignoring Fredrick. "-that project. And to make everyone's lives easier at Stark Industrials, she was made my secutary and second in command. Everyone answers to Anneliese, as she probably knows whats going on before anyone else."

The table remained silent until Mr Grey spoke, "Is Alexander not the company president?"

This time, Alexander laughed far too loudly. Waggling his eyebrows at Anneliese before he replied to his father. "By appearance. I do believe you said I was too dumb to run a business, so Anneliese does it under my name."

Rolling her eyes. Anneliese chose to not voice her opinion. She wanted to, but her ability to do so was locked shut. After years of grooming to be the pinnacle of German high society, some habits don't die. Especially speaking out on a table.

Taking another bite of the food. It only tasted like bile, sluggish down her throat. That was the final spoonful of meat she had, pushing her plate gently towards Howard, who expertly switched their plates whilst in a deep conversation about Alexander and herself. It was strange to hear Howard speak of her, more so when Alexander provided details that would be better left out.

So, she sipped at her red wine which had finally arrived. The taste rolling around her tongue as she luxuriated in it. Delighted in it. The only mercy she could ever offer her family in Germany was their taste in alcohol, it was the only aspect she would happily say she got from her mother's side.

However, the taste grew sour in her mouth once Fredrick opened his mouth.

"What is your opinion of the war?"

All noise ceased at the table.

Fredrick cleared his throat. "As a german, of course."

From the corner of her eye, she watched Alexander open his mouth. Ready to argue, if it wasn't for his father raising his hand. Instantly quietening him. For the first time, that dinner, Anneliese managed to get past the habits from her youth and spoke freely. 

Sipping from her wine glass, she stared directly at Fredrick as she spoke. "Considering I fled from the rising powers in Germany, I do not think of the war fondly. It's rather...", she paused to take another sip. "Grotesque, almost. Especially as this war has only encouraged the ruination and loss of German culture and tradition. That the actions of a few radicals have made me almost embarrassed of who I am."

The answer seemed to satisfy everyone, but Fredrick. 

"Almost?", he asked with a lingering sneer - far too similar to Oskar.

Stricken in fear, Anneliese couldn't help a breathy whimper leave her throat as the parallels were illuminated. She didn't want to feel small, she couldn't afford for him to see past the wall she'd made. Even when she knew this was not Oskar, she was frighten nonetheless.

"I'm proud of my heritage," Anneliese slowly said. "But that doesn't mean I follow the ideals that is being used in my home country. I can be German without supporting the Nazi's. Not all of us are that bad, in fact - I do believe most American's forgets the contributions we've made towards luxurious living. Are you aware that the music currently playing was made by a German artist? Or the draped curtains are easily german silk?"

Fidgeting with the stem of the wine glass, she dropped her gaze to the red in her glass. Far too similar to her red dress, too similar to the violence happening abroad. Yet, words spilt just as much blood - and Fredrick's distaste for Germans were causing communities to become poor. Starving on the streets - Anneliese couldn't save them all, and not all of them wanted to be save.

They just wanted an equal chance to live, and America made sure not to allow that for anyone who wasn't their preferred race. It was almost the same ideals in Germany. Where her home exterminated them, America was more subtle - segregation wasn't any better.

Raising her eyes back to meet Fredrick, she watched him flinch slightly. Her accent crawling across her words as she spoke sharply. "If being associated to Germany is such a big thing," Anneliese said rather dryly. "Then the dinning wear is just as bad, after all the patterning in gold is a german design. The glass wear uses a german technique and unbelievably, the cream suit you are wearing is German made, the stitching gives it all away."

The conversation was dropped automatically, and Anneliese shifted in her seat to face Howard. Who was sniggering under his breath.

"That was unnecessary hot-"

"Howard!", she whispered harshly.

He traced circles on her hands, "Never in all my time, have I seen Fredrick be put in his place so quickly."

"Well, he isn't the only first born son I've dealt with," her smile faded for a spilt second, until she caught Howard's concerned gaze. "All high-class men are the same. German or American. They act like children."

Howard raised his whiskey glass towards her wine flute, a soft clink sound was made. And they enjoyed the dinner.

But there was an after to this dinner. An end to the beginning.

Just as dessert came out, an elaborate chocolate birthday cake - surprisingly no singing was done. Fredrick seemed to have more to say. Loud enough for the room to hear.

"I personally think we should just get rid of the German scum," he begun. The room vibrated in agreement, Anneliese could only stare at his open declaration. "What use do we even have for them. Their culture is clearly not good, poisonous to our youth-"

"-Fredrick-" Alexander growled out. He was ignored.

He winked at her, as he spoke louder. All guest in attendance was at the mercy of his voice. "Two wars made because Germans are uncivilised beasts. Unable to modernise or act graciously. Their education probably brainwashes their children, regardless Germans are clearly defected-"

"That's enough-", Alexander tries again.

He was ignored again.

"We should just send them all back to Germany." He declared, and mumbles of agreements flooded Anneliese's ears. Her eyesight grew red. "Or better, just get rid of them completely. Their barbaric, deserving of such a fate."

No one spoke, not a single word. And Anneliese already knew what this meant.

They agreed with him.

And Fredrick knew this. He winked at her again, before he spoke.

"Germans have no place in society, especially on the arm of a leading business man. We have no need for a german whore in this-"

Howard had already opened his mouth to speak. 

But his movement was slow compared to Anneliese. Who had already stood up, picking up her wine glass in her hand and watched as the wine stained his suit. Swiftly, she slams the glass on the table before turning and leaving.

She believed her status in America would protect her, that being by Alexander's and Howard's side. She had been so naive to believe that she would be accepted in society, and today. Today she found the truth.

Fredrick wasn't like Oskar. And Oskar wasn't like Fredrick.

It seemed the ignorant, the entitled and the rich were exactly like them.

German or American. They were as dangerous as the other.