[Perspective: Aryan Spencer]
I groaned, burying my face into the mattress. I reached my arm across the wide expanse of the bed, expecting to find the familiar weight of my favorite person in the multiverse.
My hand hit empty sheets.
I opened one eye, peering across the mattress.
"Wanda?" I called out, my voice thick with sleep.
The room was empty.
Before I could formulate a complaint about being abandoned, the bedroom door clicked open.
Wanda walked in. She was already fully dressed, wearing a pair of dark jeans and a cream colored sweater.
Her hair was brushed, falling in neat waves over her shoulders. She looked incredibly put together for this early in the morning.
"Good morning," she smiled, walking toward the bed.
"Good morning," I mumbled, rolling onto my back.
I held both my hands up toward her, opening and closing my fingers in a gesture that was entirely undignified and completely deliberate.
Wanda stopped at the foot of the bed, raising an eyebrow. "What?"
"Come here," I demanded, wiggling my fingers again.
"I am already dressed, Aryan," she pointed out, though she took a step closer to the side of the mattress.
"And I am critically under hugged," I countered. "It's a medical emergency. Come here."
She laughed, shaking her head, but she walked over to my side of the bed.
As soon as she was within reach, I shot my hands out. I grabbed her by the waist, using my momentum to pull her down.
"Aryan!" she yelped, tumbling onto the mattress beside me.
I immediately rolled, pinning her beneath me. I wrapped my arms tightly around her, burying my face into the crook of her neck.
"What are you doing?" she protested weakly, though her hands instinctively came up to rest on my bare shoulders. "I just dressed up. You are messing around."
"Shhh," I whispered into her skin, pressing a soft kiss to her collarbone. "I'm just trying to have my lovely little witch. Don't disturb me. I am establishing my morning baseline."
"It is already morning," she reminded me, her fingers tangling idly in the hair at the nape of my neck. "And you should wake up. We have a schedule."
"Just a little while," I pleaded, tightening my grip around her waist. "Let me hug you. It is essential for my overall wellbeing."
She sighed, a dramatic sound that didn't match the affectionate smile I could feel pressing against my shoulder.
"Okay," she relented. "Only for a few minutes."
"Only for a few minutes," I agreed easily.
I held her. I listened to her heartbeat. I smelled the floral scent of her shampoo.
The minutes stretched. I might have dozed off again. The warmth of her body was a powerful sedative.
"Aryan," she said eventually, her voice a soft murmur near my ear. "Get up. I almost fell asleep again."
"Isn't this a good thing?" I mumbled, refusing to open my eyes. "You can rest for a bit, right? Vacations are for resting."
"Right," she agreed, shifting her weight slightly beneath me. "But according to the schedule, we have a driving itinerary."
I groaned, reluctantly lifting my head to look down at her. "Right. But we don't have to fight for a schedule. That's why we wanted the car, right? So we wouldn't have to rush to catch a train."
"Still," she smiled, reaching up to push a messy lock of hair off my forehead. "You do not want to drive annoyed because we hit the afternoon traffic. So let's do it in the morning."
"Okay, okay," I conceded, rolling off her and sitting up on the edge of the bed.
We finally managed to extract ourselves from the gravitational pull of the bed.
I went into the bathroom, jumping into the shower and letting the hot water wake me up completely. I brushed my teeth, threw on a fresh t-shirt and jeans, and headed downstairs.
We spent a few hours exploring the area immediately surrounding the hotel, getting a proper Italian breakfast of strong coffee and fresh pastries.
By mid morning, we had officially checked out of the Hotel Danieli.
We dragged our heavy luggage back across the cobblestones, navigating the winding streets until we reached the massive concrete parking structure at Piazzale Roma.
I unlocked the black Audi, loading the suitcases into the trunk.
Wanda slid into the passenger seat.
I got behind the wheel, starting the engine.
As I pulled out of the parking garage, merging onto the highway that led out of Venice, I spotted something familiar in my peripheral vision.
A large tour bus was idling at a scenic overlook near the edge of the lagoon.
Through the large windows of the bus, I could clearly see the chaotic energy of a high school field trip.
And sitting in one of the front seats, looking absolutely miserable, was Peter Parker.
He was holding a pair of high tech sunglasses in his hands. E.D.I.T.H. The glasses that controlled the Stark satellite network.
The glasses he was about to give to Quentin Beck, inadvertently handing a psychotic narcissist the keys to a global drone strike system.
I reached out with my mind, targeting the physical object in Peter's hands.
Select: E.D.I.T.H. Glasses.
Action: Wipe artificial intelligence matrix.
Action: Disconnect from orbital network.
Action: Reformat into standard polarized lenses.
In the span of a microsecond, the most dangerous weaponized sunglasses on the planet became nothing more than a very expensive pair of Ray Bans.
I expanded my awareness upward, past the atmosphere, into the cold vacuum of low Earth orbit.
Select: Stark Industries Orbital Defense Satellite (Project E.D.I.T.H).
Action: Initiate total system wipe.
Action: Disconnect targeting arrays.
Action: Disable all automated drone deployment protocols.
I turned my attention back to the interior of the Audi.
"So," I said, glancing over at Wanda as we cruised down the Italian highway. "We have a long drive ahead of us. What kind of music do you like to hear?"
Wanda leaned back in her seat, watching the rolling hills of the Veneto countryside speed past the window.
"Anything you want," she said softly, turning her head to smile at me. "I trust your taste."
"Dangerous words, Lemon Queen," I warned, reaching for the digital interface on the dashboard. "You have given me unlimited power over the auxiliary cord."
I scrolled through the playlist, selecting a track that felt perfectly suited for a sunny drive through Europe.
The slow melody of Paul Anka filled the cabin.
Put your head on my shoulder...
Hold me in your arms, baby...
Wanda laughed, recognizing the romantic tone immediately. "Is this your attempt to serenade me while driving?"
"I am setting the mood," I defended, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel in time with the slow beat.
I cleared my throat, adopting an exaggerated lounge singer voice.
"Squeeze me oh so tight... show me... that you love me too..." I sang, looking over at her and wiggling my eyebrows.
Wanda covered her face with her hands, giggling uncontrollably. "Aryan, please! You are ruining a beautiful song with your terrible voice!"
"My voice is like velvet!" I protested, placing a hand over my heart in mock offense. "I am the songbird of my generation!"
"You sound like a dying cat," she countered, reaching over to turn the volume up slightly, drowning me out. "Let the professional sing."
"You wound me," I sighed, settling back into my seat, though I couldn't wipe the grin off my face.
We drove on, the classic love song providing a perfect soundtrack to our escape.
PS: We need only 64 more Power Stones for another bonus chapter.
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