Even if he hadn’t spent the past few months learning to read the shifts and angles of her body, the space between words unsaid and the emptiness of a reigned reaction – the disappointment on her face is palpable and it stirs a spark of something that rears up defensively. He’s not going to sign it because – but the because doesn’t change the choice.
He hasn’t touched it, hoped that they might be able to avoid this conversation and spare each other the disappointment and frustration that would inevitably come ( and when did it become that that look on her face started to weigh so heavily on his mind? ).
“Yes, especially after everything – Maria, I am who I am. I can’t make that go away. I can’t make me go away.” The Skrulls and all their alien technology couldn’t make him go away properly. “I’m the one who made this bomb – I’m not about to put it in anyone else’s hands.”
“Signing the Accords isn’t going to change who you are, that’s not the aim. I don’t want that,” Maria clarifies quickly. “You don’t have to shoulder all of that responsibility, that’s the point.” Her hands are still thrust into the lining of her jacket, balled into fists because she isn’t sure what else to do with them. A frown passes across her expression, a semi-consistent appearance since the beginning of this conversation, ebbing and flowing like clouds moving across the sun.
Unfortunately, what he’s suggested isn’t really an option for him. Doesn’t he understand? “Bruce.” She pauses, rolling the words she wants to say around her molars. “Retirement isn’t exactly an option. You just said it- He doesn’t really go away . The casino… I think that’s proof of just how important a decision like this is.” She wants to say it’s dangerous, but the word catches in her throat.