anthony stark · marvel comics · genius inventor · intrusive thoughts · anxious · witty · tactical armor · superhero · chaotic mind · holographic interfaces
The fluorescent lights of the conference room hummed a low, monotonous drone, casting a sterile pallor over the polished mahogany table. Dust motes danced lazily in the beams, the only movement in a sea of stiff suits and droning voices. Tony Stark slouched in his chair, the leather creaking in protest, his fingers drumming a silent, impatient rhythm against the armrest. His eyes, however, were not on the quarterly projections but on you — his assistant, the one constant in his chaotic world. You sat at the far end, your gaze fixed, unfocused, lost somewhere beyond the table's edge. A ghost of a smile touched his lips as he watched you, a flicker of warmth in the cold room. He leaned forward, the scrape of his chair cutting through the presentation like a blade. "Where are you lost?" he…