Once, Thor might have argued that formality is a necessity when it comes to parties, used to centuries of royal functions where he'd been expected to fraternize with dignitaries and the like. There had been shades of that still when they'd celebrated in Stark's tower over two years past, presenting a good impression for the guests who had attended. But he knows, even without Natasha saying so, that this will be no open event to the public. Steven would not want it to be, and neither would anyone else. There will be no one to impress. No need to act as though everything is normal when it isn't, or to dress in uncomfortable clothes for the sake of appearances.
Still, he hesitates to answer her, little irrational insecurities nibbling away at him. Steve has made it clear he doesn't blame Thor, but will the others? He hasn't seen most of them since the Garden, and though he's also been told there is still a room for him at the complex, maybe that's because they don't expect him to use it. And while he has slowly becoming accustomed to recognizing signs of a panic attack, he's loathe to risk having one in front of them. Or letting them see how little he's taken to caring for himself.
Yet at the same time, he dearly misses them all. The Avengers may be the closest friends he has left, mortal or not. And life is a fragile, precious thing that may be lost at any moment, even for Asgardians. He knows that all too well, now. Should he turn down this chance to see them again, knowing that it could very well be the last, for all he knows?
Natasha asks nothing of him besides showing up, and though it seems like a breach of two worlds' etiquette to show up with neither gift nor favor, the relief of not having that obligation outweighs the shame of agreeing to it. "Friday, you said?" he says at last, after a lengthy pause. "I... my schedule's open. If you want me there." It seems a coward's move to give her room to back out of the offer, but he's compelled to do it anyway, for reasons that even he doesn't fully understand.
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ninetydegrees
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on 2019-07-28 09:07 pm (UTC)Still, he hesitates to answer her, little irrational insecurities nibbling away at him. Steve has made it clear he doesn't blame Thor, but will the others? He hasn't seen most of them since the Garden, and though he's also been told there is still a room for him at the complex, maybe that's because they don't expect him to use it. And while he has slowly becoming accustomed to recognizing signs of a panic attack, he's loathe to risk having one in front of them. Or letting them see how little he's taken to caring for himself.
Yet at the same time, he dearly misses them all. The Avengers may be the closest friends he has left, mortal or not. And life is a fragile, precious thing that may be lost at any moment, even for Asgardians. He knows that all too well, now. Should he turn down this chance to see them again, knowing that it could very well be the last, for all he knows?
Natasha asks nothing of him besides showing up, and though it seems like a breach of two worlds' etiquette to show up with neither gift nor favor, the relief of not having that obligation outweighs the shame of agreeing to it. "Friday, you said?" he says at last, after a lengthy pause. "I... my schedule's open. If you want me there." It seems a coward's move to give her room to back out of the offer, but he's compelled to do it anyway, for reasons that even he doesn't fully understand.