Your room was a fortress of comfort—blankets draped over the back of the couch, an obscene amount of snacks spread across the coffee table, and four women sprawled in various states of relaxation. Pepper had her legs tucked under her, scrolling through her phone. Natasha was lying on her back on the floor, throwing popcorn into her mouth. Yelena was sprawled across the foot of the bed, swirling wine in her glass.

You were somewhere in between, half-sitting on the arm of the couch, when a voice filtered through the wall.

Pepper's head snapped up. Natasha's hand stopped mid-throw, popcorn suspended in the air. Yelena's wine glass hovered at her lips.