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Steve Rogers was impulsive and reckless. He knew it... they all knew it. What he didn't know was that the beautiful woman he hooked up with months ago might just be the woman who changes his life forever.
• • •
The moon shone bright that night, the stars twinkling above Steve Rogers as he walked into the Brooklyn bar as the clock struck midnight.
He was impulsive and reckless. He knew it... they all knew it. He had just awoken from the ice two weeks ago and was completely and utterly bored. It had been two weeks of continuous medical testing to try and figure out how in the world he had survived being frozen in ice; two weeks of trying to adjust to the vastly changing world; two weeks of trying to move on from the fact that he had lost an entire lifetime with his friends and the woman he had loved. He supposed that he should've been happy, that he had the chance to restart, to live in a new era with technology that the past had only dreamed about.
In reality, he just felt like a neanderthal.
With a heavy sigh, he made his way to the bar and sat down to immediately order a shot of whiskey and a pint of beer. It was one of those nights that he wished he didn't have the super serum, that he could get drunk off his ass, wander home, and collapse in bed to forget about the life he had lost.
The thought of that made him realize that damn, he really was pathetic.
He was a man who just might've run out of time.
The bartender, a young beautiful woman, smiled at him as she set down his drinks. That was another thing that was different... the women. They were still a mystery to him, but they were more forward now, more bold and more powerful. He had been intimidated more than once by the S.H.I.E.L.D. commander, Maria Hill. He didn't know whether or not it was because he was Captain America, but he never had so many women come onto him. Contrary to popular belief, Steve Rogers was not a virgin. The showgirls weren't particularly shy, and he took full advantage of his new body and refractory period, or lack of. He and Peggy had even managed to 'fondue' amongst the chaos of the war, but his biggest regret was not putting her first, not setting aside more time to worship her, to tell her how beautiful she was and how much he utterly adored her.
He sighed again, taking a long swing of his beer and trying not to think too hard about what had been torn away from him. However, his contemplation was swiftly hindered as there was a voice behind him.
"Is anyone sitting here?" A woman asked, a natural rasp to her voice that he found surprisingly captivating.
He glanced over his shoulder to look at the empty chair beside him and then at the woman. The breath was swiftly knocked out of his chest as he saw her. "No, go ahead." He choked out. He could hardly take his eyes off the captivating redhead as she sat down beside him. The low lights of the bar reflected in her emerald eyes as she glanced at him, her hair pulled back in a loose braid and her jacket falling off her shoulder, exposing her creamy, pale skin. He dragged his eyes away from her as difficult as it was to do because he had been staring for far too long and listened to her order three shots of vodka. She then dropped her head in her hands, her long eyelashes fluttering against her cheek as she closed her eyes.
