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You'd have to be stupid or suicidal to be Tony Stark and be out in public without a bodyguard or the suit right now, but here he is all the same, in Central Park after dark. Not sleeping, but more importantly, not drinking.
Actually, right now he doesn't know which one would be worse. If he cracked, if he drank, black out drunk unconscious, maybe he wouldn't run through it again, the way he has every night for weeks now, too vivid, too repetitive to be anything other than significant. He can feel yellow-orange eyes on the back of his neck, the hint of a smile in the dark.
He ate pistachio icecream on this bench once, a thousand years and a million 'better not risk it' excuses ago.
Actually, right now he doesn't know which one would be worse. If he cracked, if he drank, black out drunk unconscious, maybe he wouldn't run through it again, the way he has every night for weeks now, too vivid, too repetitive to be anything other than significant. He can feel yellow-orange eyes on the back of his neck, the hint of a smile in the dark.
He ate pistachio icecream on this bench once, a thousand years and a million 'better not risk it' excuses ago.
