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"I do not understand why you must learn this."
Bruce and Tony would be proud, you grumble in your mind. And you do it because you can, but you don't say a word.
"Or why you must ignore me."
With only a flick of your fingers, the Sokovian's chair is took from beneath him, but the man catches himself. You continue reading with a prominent smirk on your lips.
"That is very rude, draga." He sits back on the chair, staring at you insistently.
You know he's waiting for you to crack; he wants you to give into temptation, but he's yet to realize that your self-control has always been one of your strong suits.
"It is not my fault that I pushed you out of the way." He gives, tapping his fingers along the wooden desk. "You would have been hit by a bullet."
A rubber bullet, you correct in your mind.
You meet his expecting gaze by glaring relentlessly at him.
"Maybe I should not have interferred."
You raise an eyebrow at him.
"And I am sorry, lubirea mea."
You shut your book, a smile finding its way onto your face.
"You will love me again now, yes?"
You and your boyfriend share a brief kiss. "I never stopped loving you, you idiot."
* * * *
"Pietro, please."
"I do not want you torturing yourself."
"It's not torture, Piet! I want to learn!"
And you know you could take the book back. You know you could force the book to return to you, but you keep your pleading eyes on the Sokovian.
"You have been reading it for a week now. A week! A full six days!"
"A week's seven days," He glares and you backtrack. "But that's not the point, right. Pietro, please."
You give him your best puppy dog eyes, holding out your hands. He sighs, retracting the book from above the fire. "You have not been paying attention to me."
"We were just cuddling and talking about combat methods an hour ago." You take the book into your arms.
"That was with Steve!" Pietro yells with irritation.
You frown. "Oh."
Then you drop the book on the couch, waddling over to your boyfriend with your blanket burrito around you. "I love you."
"I do not know anymore. You might love the book more than me."
You open up your burrito, gesturing for him to cuddle in with you. "I'm sorry."
"You do not love the book more than me?"
"No, never."
"Then I accept your apology. We kiss now, yes?"
You lean into his touch, his thumb caressing your cheek. "Yes."