Shadowplay | Tony Stark

FORTY SEVEN - CHAMPAGNE CHEERS

Despite his best efforts at trying to keep to himself, it wasn't long before Tony became the centre of attention that afternoon at his son's birthday party.

At first it was a couple of the kids that would stop and stare, none of them saying anything to him but choosing to run over to Tristan instead and ask him if there was a real superhero at his party.

To which Tristan excitedly told them, "Yeah, Iron Man is my Dad!"

After that moment, Tony had a second to breathe before his attention was constantly grappled for by kids and parents alike, eventually being surrounded by a group of mothers that were clearly swooning over the celebrity guest.

Mila barely had the chance to notice the rather obvious amount of flirting happening around her dining room table, though she didn't mind. In fact, she felt bad for Tony having to sit there and listen to the other women talk, knowing just how boring and mundane some of them could be after having to chat with them in the daycare reception.

Every time she thought about diving in to try and save him, something else came along and stole her attention. Whether a child started tugging on her dress asking for a drink, another one ending up in tears asking for a bandaid for a bruised knee, or one of the parents asking for a bottle opener, Mila was constantly being pulled in every direction apart from Tony's.

"If you'll excuse me, ladies, I'm gonna go grab myself another drink."

Tony lifted up his empty cup with a gentle smile, raising a brow and standing up before any of the women had time to interject and offer to get him a drink themselves.

He wandered through the house, stepping over party poppers and paper plates on the floor before eventually reaching the kitchen, though after catching wind of a conversation with words that hit him like a train, he stayed stood outside the door, unwillingly continuing to listen.

"Let me check my calendar," he heard Mila's voice say, "Yep, that works for me. I'll give you a call if anything changes."

"Perfect," a deeper voice replied, making Tony's insides rise up into his throat, "You need a hand with that? Let me get it for you."

Tony barged into the kitchen with his mug in his hand, swallowing once when he saw the same blond gentleman who'd held the door open for Mila earlier that day twisting the cap on a bottle of champagne and popping the cork.

"Cheers," the man said with a laugh as the bubbles fizzed down the side of the bottle, "I'll go offer this around."

"Thanks Chris, appreciate it." Mila said with a smile.

Chris turned on his heels and headed towards the door, stopping when he reached Tony only to extend his hand.

"Big fan, appreciate your work."

Tony looked up into his cold blue eyes once before reluctantly shaking his hand, giving it a firm squeeze as he offered a sickeningly sarcastic smile in return.

"Thanks, man."

The kitchen door fell closed and Tony wandered over to Mila who was washing up used mugs and plates in the sink while simultaneously adding a new crate of beers that another father had brought into the fridge to chill off.

Her silence told Tony everything he needed to know and whilst the ravenous jealousy of hearing her arranging what sounded very much like a date was eating him alive, he pushed his bitterness to the side once he saw the look of helplessness in her eyes.

"Sorry," she spun around, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, "You need a drink, some food? I think there's pizza left over by the microwave."

Tony just chuckled, shaking his head, "What do you need, hm? You look a little..."