Chemical Poison

Anneliese knew there was something ironic with their plan.

There were many factors not taken into consideration. Factors that mattered a lot to both society, Anneliese, and supposably Howard. An oversight neither thought to consider - variables unaccounted for.

They worked in a science and engineering industry. Him, a scientist. Her, a secretary. In hindsight, one of them should've seen it coming. Anneliese would never know if it is from a lapse of poor judgment or from moving too quickly.

She had thought of the consequences - far too many. He had thought of how the plan would come into formation. Howard thought of the build up and Anneliese thought of the fallout.

Neither planned the in-between - the middle.

Legally, Anneliese knew she was married. There was a paper signed with her name on it. Ink made her his; forever next to him. She had a ring, though not exactly a wedding one, but nonetheless - she had a ring to prove it.

But it seemed nothing was legal or illegal until the public could see it. In the eyes of consumers and distasteful news anchors, Anneliese was only a fiancee. She was the secretary with a strange history of suing past co-workers for defamation.

To the public, she was just a woman that snagged the biggest bachelor in America.

To the public, she was an American woman - Mr Anderson's words did not reach the public ears.

To the public, she was not married.

And unmarried women do not sleep in the same bed as a man.

As she stares across her childhood bed to see Howard staring back at her. They had both come to that realisation. For the past few hours, they lived in their utopia, in a world that Howard could carve as if it was clay. He was the maker of his world, a god within the stone walls of Stark Industries.

Outside of this bubble, he was just a man. Victim to the world like any other man before him, likewise, Anneliese was a victim like all other women. The world was anything but what Stark Industries was. It was cruel, uncaring, and forced knees to shatter against the cement floor. There was no mercy for those that breathed; there was nothing to be done.

Frozen, Anneliese believes herself to be perpetually stuck. When each trial ends, a new one begins. It was tiring.

No wonder the men in her family had puffy eyes and the woman always applied more cosmetics to hide the skin tinted blue. It was a never-ending battle: family turbulence, unfit marriages, and unethical scientific discoveries. All of it forced them back together.

Yet, it seemed this fate had followed her to Howard. Every day was a new challenge and a new problem to find. It was a puzzle that saw no end.

"I'll take the couch," Howard announces, breaking Anneliese's frozen body.

"No," She pleads.

Then silence. It was always silent whenever she spoke up. Why was it always so silent?

Why did her father go silent when she spoke her mind? Why did her Uncle's lips seal shut when her mother whispered an idea? Why did the world freeze whenever a woman's lip opened to speak?

She had read a column in a morning paper a long time ago. It was a crude piece of writing, suggesting that lipstick should stick the lips together. That a woman's mouth was only good for smiling and other unsavoury acts after marriage.

Her heart drops further as the silence continued. He was just staring- staring at her. Was he to be like all other men? To be surprised and dismissive of her voice? She didn't want to be as bold as Agent Carter, she knew she could never have that level of strength. She couldn't be Maria either. She was not confident in herself. She just wanted to be able to speak and to be heard. She wanted to be acknowledged.

She was just Anneliese.

"Are you sure?", Howard speaks slowly.

His eyes are on her nightgown. A simple piece, really. A white satin dress. It was expensive, of course. Anneliese loved her clothes, which didn't end when she slept. But his eyes kept staring at her, all of her.

Light sparkled across his eyes. Curiosity, maybe.

"Yes."

She slowly moved the quilt from her side of the bed and slipped in. Anneliese watched as he did the same. He was staring at the roof as she stared at him. Admiring his hair curling without the gel. His unbrushed eyebrows, and the way his chest raised with each breath.

Howard had to be carved from gold. Glistering even in the dark; only candlelight radiating from the bedside tables. Nothing will ever be as treasures as Howard was to her. A fact she already knew.

He was impulsive. Engrossed in science. Occasionally balancing dangerously between ethical and safe. He was disgustingly different to all the men she has meet through her twenty-four years of life. He was kind and understanding. A basic right, yet seemingly unknown to the male gender.

"I don't care what they all think of me", Anneliese whispers. Inching closer towards Howard.

There was a shift in the bed as Howard turned to face her. His eyes were foggy. The same look he has when he's trying to solve a particularly difficult equation. It wasn't curiosity as she originally suspected.

It was uncertainty.

"But Ana," he whispers, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek, "I do."

Closing her eyes, she continues to listen to his hush whispers. Her throat felt dry, small. It was unfair. She had become used to sharing a room with Howard - whether they were talking or not. The last few months had just been them, and she didn't want it to stop.

And why should it? She had a right as a wife to have him by her side. They had vows. Even if they never specifically said any in front of the president. She shouldn't have to sleep in a different room from her husband - no matter how quickly this whole relationship has progressed.

Women had married men they'd never met. Women have married men they've known their whole life. Women have married men they've detested and loved.

Regardless, a wife was a wife.

"They will talk, especially if my car is found in front of your place every night."

She feels his hand slide to wipe away the tears forming in her waterline.

"And Mr Lorenz made it very clear that he didn't want to share Stark Industries with his married daughter."

Anneliese laughs, unable to stop the tears from forming.

"I cannot ruin you," he leans closer. The heat from his body radiated towards her. "It is an unfair world, but they will rip you to shreds."

She hated how right he was.

They were married. They were meant to be able to live at the same address, sleep in the same bed, and be able to wake up and see each other's faces. Even if Anneliese had never been in a relationship or bed with another man, she was raised for this position: to be a wife.

"Then let's go somewhere else," Anneliese says, eyes still closed.

She could feel Howard chuckle, "Ana, I have no other home worthy of you but Stark Industries."

Fluttering her eyes open, her gaze falls on Howard's mouth. A caring smile seemed frozen in place. She had hated him in the beginning - hated how he made her life hard. She came to like him, mainly because Alexander was always near him. Then came Project Rebirth and eventually dating.

They had been binary stars. Slowly moving in circles and moving closer to each other. Every day they crept closer, faster.

It seemed now, they had collided.

"You can just buy one," she says, determined to win

His smile grew.

"Is that what my wife wants? A house?"

She shivers at his words. A confirmation.

Anneliese nods her head as Howard shuffles towards her as he wrapped an arm around her. Uncertainty finally started to crawl into her mind - how was she meant to actually sleep with a man? Such an answer was answered as he pulled her closer towards him, her cheeks pressed against his chest.

He was warm. Anneliese had always known this fact, but here, in his arms. She knew for certainty. Howard was hot to the touch - almost feverish.

A man made of gold and fire, she concluded. She wondered if later in life, as his hair greys, if she will think of him as a man of iron? Perhaps she will always see him as he sees his machinery. Scraps of metal with the greatest potential. Howard was made of metal, burned with fire, and when all of that dulled down he left the aftertaste of vodka. Even his scent further cemented this image in Anneliese's mind: cinnamon and gunpowder. How unusual.

He pulls her tighter. Their bodies, flushed against each other. It was comfy, Anneliese decided as she nestled her head under his chin.

"Goodnight, Howard", she whispered.

"Sleep tight, love", he replied.

Anneliese always slept cold. No matter how many blankets she layered herself, she was always cold. Sherpa, wool, and fur - none of it was ever a good defence against the night's freezing temperatures. For someone who grew up in Germany, it was shocking for her to even be sensitive to the cold. She blamed it for the weeks stranded on a boat. Her father believed she had just become weak.

Regardless, Anneliese always woke up early shivering. She would whisper to herself that she needed to find a warmer quilt or a heater that didn't make her terrified of burning down her home. Three homes in her area had already partially burnt from the latest improved heater - and having worked with Stark Industries for as long as she had, you learn to pick out the ill-made technologies quickly. It came with the trade.

This time, she did not wake up. Usually, she could trust her body to wake up early in the morning from the cold alone. When she had a particularly important meeting at work, she would set up her alarm clock. Essentially, Anneliese Lorenz rarely slept in.

But as she peaked her eyes open, the sunlight blinding her from her window, she realised very quickly that she had slept in. If she had to guess, it had to be around six-forty in the morning. They had a meeting at nine.

"Go back to sleep," Howard mumbled into her hair. His breathing warm against her neck

There he was, the reason why she wasn't shivering.

She had woken up tangled with Howard's limbs. Her back had somehow ended up pressed against his stomach. His hands had made their way to her stomach, dancing a very fine line between comfort and sexual. It was surreal. Anneliese had known a day would come that she would be married and in bed with a man, she had just never expected it to be of her own volition. In Germany, she would've been arranged to whatever political match her Uncle wanted to make. In America, she may've ended up as a spinster - choosing to work and look after her father. She had never anticipated that she would have been given a choice to love and to choose.

It was another oversight, it seemed.

"We have a meeting," she yawns, sleep threatening to take her.

"I've had the meeting pushed back," he mumbled again, pulling her tighter to him. "Just go back to sleep."

Anneliese didn't really need much convincing, as her eyes had grown heavy and soon she was back to sleep.

The next time she wakes up, Howard is not next to her. Startled to be alone in her bed, she instantly sat up and saw him. She watched as he entered her bedroom already dressed. Her mouth dried up at the sight of him. He was wearing blue. There was just something attractive about Howard in blue, light blue specifically. A smirk formed across his face as she continued to stare as he pulled the navy blazer over his arms.

"Hey", Anneliese said, her voice dazed.

"Good morning, love", he replied.

She stayed perpetually frozen - just staring at him. He was majestic and beautiful and-

- she was still in bed.

Horror filled her eyes as she realised she was still in bed and not dressed. She was without her makeup, her hair done right, and no proper clothes on. Cautiously, she reached out to touch her hair to feel the curls had knotted together. She probably looked a mess.

Bringing her hands to her mouth, she watched in terror as Howard's grin grew wider.

"I'll prepare breakfast as you get dressed."

The second Howard left the room she let out a quiet cry. Never in all her time had she let a man see her so dishevelled. With the one time she slept with Howard on his floor (so it doesn't count, thank you very much) and her time in London - she always got up first. She always had her hair and makeup partially done. It was how it was meant to be.

Instead, she woke up and let Howard look at her. There was no greater horror.

She rushed to the bathroom to unknot her hair and wash it. A gruelling task as her hair seemed to be determined to curl as much as possible. After what felt like an eternity, Anneliese had given up. A flat iron would make her hair frizzy, and her hair was determined to be wavy in all the ways she didn't want it to be. Pulling it back into a ponytail or a bun seemed close to impossible. Today, she would have to leave it down. Brushing whatever hair-smoothening cream she could find, she smoothed down her hair to the best of her ability. There were still a few curls loose, refusing to set in place.

It was the best she could do.

Still dressed in her nightgown, she crept upstairs - trying to avoid Howard from seeing her in such a state. She did have makeup on and she did have her hair done. But there was a level of pride at stake, and Anneliese was nothing without her dignity. As she reached the top of the staircase to her room, she found an already-ironed outfit lying on the already-made bed. A note was attached.

Out to get food, will be back in ten.

A single glance at the outfit and she already hated it.

What was Howard's obsession with the colour green?

A quick glance at the clock on her bedside table told her that this was her only option. It was already eight-fifteen. She had no clue how late the meeting was pushed back, but she did remember Harold Lockes had a meeting with a few shareholders at one in the afternoon. The latest Howard could have pushed the meeting back was nine-thirty. Another factor Anneliese had somehow missed in her sleep-dazed state.

Grumbling in frustration, Anneliese removed her dressing gown and threw on her green ensemble: a dark green blouse, a brown skirt, and a pearl necklace. On closer inspection, she knew the pearl necklace around her neck was new and not one of her older pieces. The pearl was slightly iridescent, a marvellous collection of colour. It was white and pink with hints of blue. If she had the time, she would have studied it further. But time wasn't in her favour.

She quickly grabbed her usual work shoes, heels, of course. Next, she matched her necklace with pearl earrings before she grabbed her work bag from her desk and slipped all the documents she thought she would need. As she rushed down the stairs, she stopped at the final step.

Howard had entered the house with three bags; two noticeably brown bags only found at a bakery, and the other was black.

"I went past and got us blueberry muffins," he stated as he placed it on the counter bench, "But I also got something for you."

Raising an eyebrow at him, she stayed still as he approached her. Each step was planned, and his usual grin appeared on his smile.

Even standing on the last step, Howard still towered over her. Staring up at him, she allowed Howard to take her left hand as he pulled out a black box from the black bag.

Anneliese hadn't had to be a genius to know what was inside.

As he opened the box, two simple gold bands appeared.

"I had Gray pick them up for me," he began, as he picked up one of the gold ringers, sizeably smaller than the other. "Had them commissioned the second we decided to do this, but unfortunately they couldn't make any until today."

He slid the gold ring on her finger, it was cold to the touch. Howard had a bad eye for women's fashion, Anneliese knew this - especially as she was dressed in her green outfit. But he had an eye for jewellery. The gold band nestled under her diamond ring. To anyone else, it simply looked like an engagement ring. To her, it was confirmation she was his.

The other ring was placed in her hand as she stared at Howard, his eyes were a dazzling gold - all too similar to the gold ring in her finger.

"Gray also said I must be a wife-man," he chuckled as Anneliese slowly felt the gold ring that was obviously not for her, but for the man that stood in front of her. "To even consider wearing a ring at all."

Slowly, Anneliese delicately held Howard's hand. She slid it over his finger until it was snug against his knuckle. A symbol that Howard was as much hers, as she was his.

Leaning in, she gave him a small kiss on the side of his lips before she whispered thank you.

"It's time for work, love", he said as she took the final step to the ground, "I lied before, the meeting is still at nine."

It was currently eight-forty.

"Howard!"