Chapter Text
The tiny perfume particles still lingered in the air as you finished applying lipstick. A dark, reddish color that went well with your skin tone. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, taking a good look at the final result after quite a few hours of watching tutorials on youtube. And even though the only person that would actually know how much effort you had put into it would be you, there was still a sense of pride filling your chest when the light gleamed in the spot you had applied highlighter.
As to why you spent most of your morning getting ready for a wedding that wasn't even yours, there was no answer — not an honest one, at least. You could say the reason was that it wasn't every day an opportunity like that appeared; to dress up and wear something different than the worn-out uniform from the Sanctum.
However, as you glanced at your reflection in the mirror — smoothing the dress for the thousandth time — that little voice in your head started to ask if it was worth putting in so much effort. It would go unnoticed yet again, just like all the other times. It doesn't matter , you whisper to yourself. And even though your reflection smiled, there was no indication of genuineness in the motion. Maybe one day, those words would come true.
The invitation came as a surprise, but Christine’s handwriting was unmistakable even from Strange’s shaking hands. No words were uttered as the man handed the beautiful envelope to you, shaking his head as he turned away. There was something so heartbreaking about the man never speaking of the pain that was visible even behind guarded doors. How he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders as if it was nothing, but the ache of a broken heart always seemed to change his demeanor.
Your fingers ran through the expensive gold ink, the lettering was elegant like Christine's whole being. And you couldn't blame her for moving on, for giving happiness a chance. If Strange was still paralyzed on the spot Christine had left him, it was his choice to stand in the rain when she left looking for shelter. And the invitation on your hands celebrated that; the support she always longed for, found after years spent between storms.
A tiny gasp escapes your lips as you reach the bottom of the paper, reading over and over again to make sense of what was written right next to Strange’s name.
Your name in a beautiful calligraphy and gold ink.
As to why Christine decided to invite you, it was up for debate. It wasn't as if you two were strangers, but you didn’t consider her a friend. God, you couldn't even remember the last time you had seen her. Between the snap and the mess that followed after so many people came back all at once, there was no time for catching up with those that stayed. And maybe Strange felt that same way until finding out the person he loved the most, was now engaged to another through a piece of paper.
Time was a curious thing, and even though Strange had been the master of it for quite some years, its punch still did the same damage to his heart. The thought irked you in a way that your hands almost tore the delicate material. And you had to remind yourself again that Christine was not the one to blame for the hurt blooming in your chest.
The sound of your heels against the wooden floor echoed through the empty Sanctum while you made your way to Strange’s bedroom. He must've stayed awake until late in the night since there was no sight of the man walking around the halls just yet. Although you took your sweet time to get ready, you knew that the wizard was just as vain. And given the circumstances, Strange must want to look his best — not that he needed to put any kind of effort, he was handsome by nature.
Stopping in front of his bedroom door, you tap your knuckles against the wooden surface. it doesn’t take long for it to open, and slowly, you step inside. It wasn’t often that you had the guts to enter Strange’s bedroom. It smelled just like him; in every single corner you glanced at, there was a bit of his personality as well. It physically hurt to be in a place that reminded you of what you couldn't have — so close, yet so very far.
As you turn the corner, ignoring the way your stomach turns at the sight of his bed still messed up from his wake, you find the man standing in front of a large mirror. The words are caught up in your throat for a moment, eyes lingering at his beautiful reflection. His well-trimmed beard was sharp and elegant just like his hair, but it was the suit that fitted him so perfectly that managed to take your breath away.
Not that you would ever tell him that.
“I thought it was the bride who was supposed to come in late,” You say, trying to sound as unaffected as you could. That smirk at the corner of his lips would be the death of you one day.
“If that’s your way of saying that I look handsome, I’ll take it,” Strange answers, still focusing his attention on the tie that lay undone on his chest. He goes for it again, but it’s a useless battle when his hands shake with the movement that was required to pass it through the loop. Strange drops the fabric, rubbing his forehead in distress.
“Here, let me,” You offer without thinking, stepping closer to the wizard.
Strange turns around, wearing an apologetic smile that you brush off. You could imagine how frustrating it must be; to be able to save the world with the same hands that would draw a line when it comes to tying a tie. Your fingers linger above his chest for just a second, feeling the heat of his body even in the cold morning.
“You look nice,” Strange whispers, looking at you behind black eyelashes.
On an ordinary day, a snarky remark would be on the tip of your tongue, ready to shoot. However, standing so close to him that you could feel his breath slightly caressing your skin, it was nearly impossible to think of something else than the smell of his cologne. It takes more than it should to suppress a shiver from running down your spine.
“Thanks.”
It doesn't matter.
“I’m glad you’re coming with me, to be honest,” Strange confesses, tapping his fingers against his thigh, “I don't know if I would be able to face it alone.”
You laugh in disbelief, cocking your head to the side, “Do you expect me to believe in that?”
His eyebrows lift in defiance, but you roll your eyes at him. “You don’t need to butter me up, Strange. Despite what you might think, I actually like parties.”
“Butter you up? I would never think about doing that, It would only add to your ego.”
“Oh, no. We are not talking about ego,” You snort, passing the tie through the loop, “You would win by a landslide, anyway.”
Strange chuckles as you tighten the knot, adjusting it around his throat. His eyes are focused on your face, but you can't bring yourself to retribute the gaze; it’s maddening enough to have him so close. However, as rare as these moments were, it was addictive to have his attention all to yourself.
You run a hand through the fabric before stepping back, “Done.”
“Looks decent,” Strange turns to the mirror, adjusting the knot one last time, “But I could’ve used magic.”
“Hmm, but what’s the fun in that?” You chip in, following him out of the bedroom, “Besides, couldn't pass the opportunity of fantasizing about choking you.”
As soon as those words leave your mouth, a sudden rush of warmth spreads through your face and neck. God, why do you say things without thinking of the implications first? Strange stops in his tracks, his cape comes flying in his direction but he doesn't pay attention, staring at you as if you had grown another head.
“To death,” You explain, mortified. “Choking you to death.”
“Charming,” Strange snorts, finally grabbing his cape and putting it in the pocket of his suit.
There was nothing more you wanted to do than to dig a hole and bury yourself 6 feet under. But instead, you swallowed down the embarrassment and followed him towards the door. He opens it and playfully bows, motioning for you to go first.
The sun was up in the sky when you left the Sanctum; the feeling of its warmth was welcomed — even if the burning of embarrassment was still fresh on your skin. Since the church was close, Strange suggested that you both could do some walking instead of asking for a cab. You nodded in agreement, happy to spend some more time in his company.
Walking alongside him, the silence prevailed even though the streets were busy. But there was no need to fill in the gap, and that was something you were grateful for — it showed how comfortable Strange was in your presence. Sharing such mundane moments, from eating together at the nearby coffee to studying together on rainy days. Sometimes it was almost enough, to believe that at least, you were part of his life.
It doesn't take long to get to the church where the wedding was taking place. A beautiful flower arrangement adorned the entry, and the decoration inside mirrored the invitation quite well; clean and classic. You could see that there was going to be a big wedding by the number of people already inside.
“Well, here we are,” You say, turning to face Strange. The man had slowed his steps until coming to a halt. His eyes seemed unfocused, lost in thought as a cloud hid the sun, covering his face from the light. And that ache in your heart bloomed like a flower in the spring.
Strange looked so sad .
It was in moments like this that you remembered where you stood regarding his affections; so very far from the center. It made you feel selfish, wanting more than he could ever give. It was clear that Christine was still his one and only, nothing else could compare. A sort of sadness washes over you; a longing for something that never happened.
“You know,” You playfully poke him with your elbow, trying to bring him back to the present, “We can always say that you were fighting a magical creature, and after killing it from the inside, the smell of it still lingered no matter how many spells Wong and I tried.”
Strange shakes his head slightly, whatever was on his mind is put on hold. The smirk at the corner of his lips comes back; fragile, but still there. “You are not living that down, are you?”
“I mean, the smell is still craved in my mind,” You hook your arm through his, pulling him towards the entrance, “How do you wash your brain, anyway? Is there even a spell for that?”
“Aren't you supposed to help me here?” Strange scoffs but lets himself be dragged inside the church.
I’m trying, is what you want to say, That’s the only reason why I’m here at this stupid wedding. But the words are replaced by a weak smile and a pat on his arm. The man needed your support more than ever, there was no time to argue over something foolish.
Even if those foolish things were your feelings.
“Come, let’s find a seat.”
***
When the first notes of the song started to play, you mentally buckled up to what was about to happen. It would be one of those moments where no matter the number of times you prepared yourself, nothing would compare to the real thing. The tension on your shoulders grows as you watch the groom walking down the aisle, followed by the maids of honor.
When the doors opened, revealing a beautiful Christine dressed all in white, you held your breath, but Strange did nothing but stare at her just like everyone else. However, you knew him, and the slightly hunched shoulders gave away his true feelings.
She walks with a huge smile gracing her lips, focusing her eyes on the groom waiting for her at the altar. For a moment you wonder if Strange was imagining himself in his place, a fantasy relived again and again in his mind. A wave of anger hits you by surprise, making you unclench your fists just as quickly as they had closed.
Don’t think about it.
At some point during the exchange of vows, you take a quick glance at Strange, regretting it right after. A semblance of sadness and melancholy filled every inch of his face, and although there was a smile trembling on his lips, his jaw was locked in place. If it was out of anger or grief, you could not tell, but at that moment, Strange looked like a man stuck in the past, reliving memories from years ago that no longer held any meaning.
It eats you from the inside, but there is nothing you can do. Strange was a man of conviction, and if his love was anything like his personality, then it would stubbornly die with him. And even if the bite you left on the inside of your cheek stings, the truth is much more painful to deal with.
As soon as the newly wedded couple leaves the church, all the guests follow right after. The reception was going to be at a fancy restaurant in a high-rise building nearby. But instead of rushing to the place, you stay still at the spot next to Strange, waiting for whatever battle he was facing to come to an end. The urge to comfort him almost takes over, but you decide to give him space and time to deal with the end of this part of his life.
It was time for him to move on too.
“I’m content for her,” Strange finally says, voice echoing through the empty church as haunting words from a ghost, “After everything we went through, Christine deserves to be happy.”
Even if it's not with me, it goes unsaid, but you pick between the lines.
This time you don't resist the impulse to reach for him, placing your hand over his. It’s a small gesture but you hope it’s enough to soothe his mind for just a little.
“Well, sometimes we stray from the path we deemed right for ourselves, but it doesn't mean it won't lead us to great things,” You squeeze his hand, offering him a genuine smile, “Maybe even greater.”
“Thank you, Y/N.” Strange returns the gesture, patting your hand gently, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes.
***
Staying close to the balcony was a good choice. Like this, you could see the city from up above, the high-rise buildings covering the horizon like a sea of concrete. It was also a place where people lingered only if they needed to catch some air or to smoke, the noises from the streets almost drowning out the ones from the party.
You were by the bar, looking over the window as you waited for Strange to come back from the bathroom. He had been strangely quiet since you both left the church; it wasn't uncommon to have him absorbed in thoughts, but when it happened, it tended to leave you feeling fidgety.
“Y/N,” A voice calls you from behind, and you don't need to think who it belongs to before turning around, replacing the frown with a smile right away.
“Christine,” You wince with the way your voice sounds off, but having to deal with not only your broken heart but also Strange’s was a very draining effort, to say the least. You hug her for a brief moment, “Congratulations on the wedding. It’s a beautiful party, and you look amazing!”
Christine's smile is sweet as she puts a strand of hair behind her ear, “Thank you.”
“I hope everything is just as you dreamed of,” You find yourself sincerely speaking.
Because when putting all of your feelings aside, you could see that the woman was content, there was a constant smile adorning her features from the moment she stepped into the church. And even though it pained you to see Strange still mourning their past relationship, Christine was a good person who deserved a happy ending.
“It’s definitely more than I pictured, but my husband wanted something special. And who am I to say no, right?” She laughs, waving at the bartender.
When her drink arrives, you decide to have one as well, needing some alcohol in your veins to get through the rest of the party. You knew that the moment you arrived home, not a single muscle would be safe from aching because of the growing tension on your shoulders. Who would've thought that tending Strange's broken heart could be so exhausting?
You go down on the drink in a blink of an eye. The liquor slides down your throat, a delicious burn that you welcome with open arms. The bartender doesn't even have time to turn around when you ask for another shot. It’s only on the third that you decide to enjoy the taste of it instead of just swallowing it down.
Christine doesn't say anything, only chuckles at your mannerism. She sways the drink in her hand, seeming to ponder over something you could not begin to guess what it was. And due to not having eaten anything before the wedding, the booze kicks in faster than you'd expect.
“So…” You clean your throat before continuing, “Even though I’m flattered that my name made it into your list… I could not stop wondering why.”
It was a question you didn't know the answer to; you never discussed it with Strange about it either. Actually, the only time you two talked about the event was when he decided to attend it, requesting you to come along. It was rare for Strange to ask for help, even if at first glance it looked like he was annoyed, but deep down you knew he was grateful — that little moment in his bedroom only confirmed that.
She takes a sip from her cocktail, eyes wandering around until they land on someone. You follow her gaze and spot Strange on the other side of the room. He’s crouched in front of a child, showing a magic trick that has the girl's eyes sparkling with glee. A smile spreads on your lips almost immediately.
“I’ve noticed the way you look at him,” Christine answers, observing them with fondness, “It’s the same way I once did.”
The burning of the alcohol turns into a displeasing ache in the back of your throat, its taste souring as you look down at the glass in your hand. You bite the inside of your cheek again, the familiar pain grounds you at the moment, not letting your thoughts wander further than they should.
However, it’s impossible to hold back the memories that flood your brain. Having feelings for someone was already something bothersome, but for Strange of all people? It was a battle you just could not win. It didn't matter how many times you told yourself; those incessant feelings were embedded in your heart, branding it as his — even when Strange would never claim the prize.
“I just admire him,” It’s hard to swallow after the words come out, voice trembling slightly.
Christine smiles as if she knows something you don't, and it’s frustrating how easily she can read your emotions. Wearing them on your sleeve would only cause you harm, that’s why you hid behind indifference and snarky comments; it was easier to pretend that nothing mattered than to acknowledge how deep you were into this.
“There’s a fine line between admiration and love,” Christine takes another sip, then adds softly, “And I’m certain that you know the difference.”
The bitter taste of her words stings, and you find yourself just an inch before completely drowning. “Even if that’s true, it doesn't matter.”
It had become a sort of a mantra by now; a sign of defeat you willingly accepted since the first time you met Strange. Even after years by his side, the wizard still only had eyes for Christiane, so how could she be so cruel to suggest that your feelings were enough to change that?
Before she can answer, the man quickly makes his way toward both of you, a smile so charming on his face that makes you forget the conversation for a moment.
“What are the two of you gossiping about?” He takes the drink from your hand without asking for permission, downing it in a long sip.
You fondly roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. And it’s impossible to hold your tongue when he looks smug like that, “I was going to tell Christine about that creature we — ”
“ Okay , give us a moment,” You can’t help but snort as Strange quickly steps in between you and Christine, pushing you backward until her face is completely covered by his body. You raise an eyebrow in amusement at his silent scolding.
“It just happens that they are serving strawberry cake right at the other side of the restaurant,” Strange points out at the table next to the door, where the waiter is handing out dishes with the dessert, “And I know how much you love them. You wouldn't miss the opportunity, would you?”
You bite your bottom lip as the words start to tumble on your tongue, begging to be set free. But before you can feel the irritation claiming your veins, Strange mouths a small ‘please’, and you know he won the fight without even trying. You sigh in defeat, running a hand through your hair.
“ Fine …I’ll leave,” You poke his chest, annoyed with the fact that he wanted to get rid of you, “But only because I love strawberry cake, nothing else.”
“Get a slice for me, won't you?” Strange winks at you before sending you off.
There’s an urge to roll your eyes and flip him off, but there were too many guests around and you didn't want to make a fool of yourself more than you already felt like one. You don't even look back, finding it hard to picture Strange and Christine together even though the woman was now married.
Unfortunately, you could understand the need to be close to the person you loved; impossible to be away even when it hurt like a punch to the stomach. Maybe in the end it was a little hypocrisy, wanting Strange to forget Christine when you held onto your feelings for him the in same painful way.
Just as you were about to eat the first slice of the beautiful cake the waiter gave to you, a loud crash resonates from the street. Quickly you put the plate down and walk towards the balcony. There's quite a commotion forming, curious guests wanting to see what was happening.
But before you could reach the open view, you find Strange already in motion. He takes the cape out of his pocket graciously, jumping from the balcony as if it was the most normal thing to do.
“Show off,” You murmur to no one in specific.
It was a good thing you decided to bring your ring. At this point, it was impossible not to have the item with you because apparently, Strange had the special ability to always attract problems. Taking a few steps back, you gesture for a portal to open; ready to follow Strange without even thinking about what lies ahead.