Hearing that Stark generally crawled his way to bed at four in the morning made Steve's hand clench around his glass. In District Eight, four in the morning meant some people were already waking up to start their early shifts at the factories. Others would begin a couple hours later, but most of the factory workers put in twelve-hour shifts, and those who had jobs outside of the factories - teachers, shopkeepers, even students - often put in three or four hours at the end of the day. That meant everyone's day started early, usually before the sun was even up.
"I'm catching a train right after I leave here," Steve said, not thanking Stark for the offer, which wasn't really an offer at all. Steve had a feeling he'd sleep better on the train anyway, as opposed to Stark's opulent penthouse.
Steve slid into the seat Stark indicated and flashed the Avox a smile that was warm with gratitude as the man set a pitcher of water on the table. His glass was more ice cubes than liquid after just two small sips, so it was nice to have a refill readily available. He was already reaching for it when Stark scooped it up instead, filling his glass for him. Steve let his hand drop awkwardly on the table, as if that had been his intention all along. Luckily, the Avox came back with soup bowls, filled with a light, creamy broth, dotted with delicate greens and savory chunks of meat. It looked rich and smelled wonderful, although Steve had never gotten familiar enough with Capitol cuisine to be able to make a guess as to what was actually in it.
"Yes, it's quiet," Steve said, trying not to bristle as he picked up his spoon. He'd noticed Stark's use of the word "we," wondered if that meant this was Stark checking up on him, acting as an intermediary for Stane. That... actually made a lot of sense. Hell, it was obvious enough that Steve couldn't believe he hadn't come to that conclusion in the first place.
If this dinner had been orchestrated by Stane, that meant he needed to watch himself carefully. Steve quickly dipped his spoon into the soup, keeping his mouth busy as Stark decided to talk about just how much the Capitol loved the Games, as if Steve wasn't already perfectly aware.
He was on his second spoonful when Stark threw out his claim that he wasn't dramatic, which was such an absurd statement that Steve choked, coming far too close to spewing his mouthful across Stark's expensive table. He forced himself to swallow, then grabbed his water glass and took a big gulp, coughing a few times to clear his throat.
"That was - you're joking, right?" he asked, his voice croaky and rough. "Because last night's showdown with Thor says otherwise." As did every other scene Tony Stark had made in the nearly 25 years since his win . The man was one spectacle after another, courting drama at every turn, a household name for all the wrong reasons.