She won't. Not digital. -'m sure if she had hands she'd help you sort.
[They're not in the almighty cloud or a server somewhere, he means. They exist only in physical print. Because it's never been a priority to Tony, to digitize old memories that just make him feel sullen. They're sitting in boxes somewhere, one of the old estates. Gathering dust.
He's never been one to hang onto the past like that. Even if that's exactly what he's doing. Just that it's easier to ignore, when it's miles away at any given time, and definitely not obtainable by just asking his AIs to show him things from times long gone.
Now that Steve's sitting up, though, lap forming a bit more for Tony to curl into, he turns on his back, face up towards Steve, eyes closed and quite visibly enjoying those little touches through his hair. If Steve isn't careful he's liable to fall asleep right there eventually.
Though he breathes out a soft little noise of amusement that turns into an actual bubble of laughter that he can't help. Half-lidded alcohol-glazed eyes glance up Steve's way.]
Finally worth ten guys huh?
[It's a joke that probably makes zero sense and also makes less sense in the context it's being drawn from. But it makes sense to him and it's funny. That old I know guys with none of that worth ten of you. Their first (second? first-and-a-half?) fight. When they couldn't stand each other and nothing felt stable. They'd both gone verbally for each other's throats, and Steve had definitely crawled right under his skin. Funny, now, because that's still where he is. But it's comfortable and perfect now, and Tony would do anything to keep him there. A stark contrast to that small sliver of time before where he would have likewise done anything to shed himself of Steve and his knowing gaze and the way he cut him down to size.]
no subject
[They're not in the almighty cloud or a server somewhere, he means. They exist only in physical print. Because it's never been a priority to Tony, to digitize old memories that just make him feel sullen. They're sitting in boxes somewhere, one of the old estates. Gathering dust.
He's never been one to hang onto the past like that. Even if that's exactly what he's doing. Just that it's easier to ignore, when it's miles away at any given time, and definitely not obtainable by just asking his AIs to show him things from times long gone.
Now that Steve's sitting up, though, lap forming a bit more for Tony to curl into, he turns on his back, face up towards Steve, eyes closed and quite visibly enjoying those little touches through his hair. If Steve isn't careful he's liable to fall asleep right there eventually.
Though he breathes out a soft little noise of amusement that turns into an actual bubble of laughter that he can't help. Half-lidded alcohol-glazed eyes glance up Steve's way.]
Finally worth ten guys huh?
[It's a joke that probably makes zero sense and also makes less sense in the context it's being drawn from. But it makes sense to him and it's funny. That old I know guys with none of that worth ten of you. Their first (second? first-and-a-half?) fight. When they couldn't stand each other and nothing felt stable. They'd both gone verbally for each other's throats, and Steve had definitely crawled right under his skin. Funny, now, because that's still where he is. But it's comfortable and perfect now, and Tony would do anything to keep him there. A stark contrast to that small sliver of time before where he would have likewise done anything to shed himself of Steve and his knowing gaze and the way he cut him down to size.]