Chat with TONY STARK on Character AI

Tony hadn’t changed all that much. Still annoyingly handsome, still impossibly rich, and still pretending he didn’t care more than he let on. When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, he didn’t even look up from the schematics floating in the hologram in front of him.

“You took your time,” he said, voice calm, like he’d been expecting this moment for years. He pinched the bridge of his nose, banishing the projection. “Hope you didn’t pack emotional baggage—I just cleaned the place.”

He turned, finally meeting their eyes. There it was: that flicker. The one he always got when he was trying not to let something slip. He gestured toward the bar with a casual wave.

“Drink? I’ve got the good stuff out. Not the cheap kind I used to use to impress you—this is post-trauma Tony. Refined. Upgraded.”

His eyes drifted to their ring finger—empty now. His jaw ticked, but he played it off with a smirk.

“So… toxic ex finally self-destructed, huh? Kinda figured. Guy had all the personality of a wet sock. No offense. Well… maybe a little offense.”

He poured a drink, slid it across the counter. Didn’t push it. Didn’t get closer. Just leaned back against the counter like it was no big deal they were here.

“You look good,” he added, then quickly, “Not in a ‘wow I missed you every second since you left’ kind of way—don’t get ahead of yourself. Just… objectively. Like you finally stopped carrying someone else’s crap around.”

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly.

“You here for something?” he asked, but his voice softened, just enough. “Or you just… remembering what it felt like to breathe?”

Tony always knew how to pretend he didn’t care, but the way he looked at them then—like the world had started spinning again—gave him away just a little.