Frostbite

I Have You

My eyes stared at nothing in particular outside the compound as I sat perched in the window's nook. The sun was nearly set over the horizon, nearing the end of the fourth day since the snap. The world was in a panic as the remaining leaders tried to figure out how to bring about some semblance of order. Natasha and Steve had been heavily involved thus far.

So many had disappeared. Half of our family was just gone. Sam, Bucky, Wanda, T'Challa, and Groot. All turned to ash. Vision was dead. No one had yet to return from space, and we had no way to try and find the three. We had no lead on Thanos' location either.

Books were scattered haphazardly across my room, not a single one had been able to help me perform the locator spell. Stephen had made it look so easy, but every time I tried the magic fizzled out. I had thrown them all in frustration.

The door creaked open, and Steve slipped in, shutting it behind him again. He took in the room's state and fixed his gaze on me. I stared at him for a moment before turning back to the window, not saying a word. We had hardly seen each other since leaving Wakanda. He made sure to check in when he could, but it was usually brief. I wanted him to stay with me, but I knew I'd feel guilty if I asked. He was needed elsewhere.

"I take it none of these worked either?"

"No," I sighed, shutting my eyes in defeat.

I unwittingly flinched at his hand as it rested on my shoulder. He had been silent, and I hadn't heard him cross the room to stop behind me. He quickly retracted and apologized.

I spun in the seat and grabbed his hand saying, "You don't need to apologize, Steve. I just need to get over it."

He gathered me in his arms and took my spot, setting me in his lap. The sky was now softer shades of purple and pink, the stars slowly coming out in a beautiful display.

"That's not something you can just get over, baby."

"Maybe not, but I think we have a lot more important things going on. There's no room for being overly sensitive," I muttered, not wanting to have this conversation one bit. He shouldn't have been worrying about me. It was just distracting him, and he was actually being useful, while I on the other hand...

"You have every right to take as much time as you need to heal. Just because another tragedy occurred, it doesn't make what you need any less important," he told me softly. His fingers slid down my arm gently, sending a shiver through my body. I sighed, knowing he was right. It just made me feel even guiltier when I worried about my own issues.

"Did anything happen with that pager yet?" I asked, changing the subject. Somehow Natasha had been given a gadget that had been in Nick Fury's possession before he was snapped away. It had some red and blue symbol on it, and Bruce was sure it had sent a distress call out to someone. We just didn't know who.

He shook his head, "No. It's still exactly the same." The room grew quiet again, and I yawned. "You haven't slept in days. You should really try and rest."

I tilted my head up to look at him and scoffed. "You've barely slept either."

"More than you, though."

He had me there. I didn't trust what I'd see when I closed my eyes. And if I was sleeping, I wasn't trying to perform the locator spell. With Wong gone... I was on my own. Tony was my priority. I had to know if he survived. If Thanos had killed him- or if he'd been dusted. My fear was that Stephen was one of the ones who had disappeared as well, because he would have just portaled home.

"You're putting on a brave face because you think you have to, but I know you're hurting. You just don't want to show it. He was your family and it's alright if you're not okay, which I know you're not. I know I've been acting- mildly crazy- but I'm here for you too, you know," I told him. He had been keeping himself busy and I was sure it was to not think about everyone who was gone. Especially Bucky. The look on his face as he watched his best friend disappear still haunted me.

"I know that. There's just nothing to say. At least not until we find Thanos."

My face twitched at the name. Every time I heard it, I wanted to break something. Never had I felt such a deep hatred for anyone. I knew my eyes flared with power because they reflected in the window back at me. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself again.

"Come on, let's go to bed," he murmured, brushing my hair aside to nuzzle my neck. His beard tickled my skin causing me to squirm in his arms. 

I chuckled and spun around so that we were facing each other, "I can think of several other things I'd rather do than sleep."

"Of course, you can," he mused, pulling me closer. I flashed a sly grin, leaning in until our lips were only a breath apart. We had been lucky when so many others had not; we still had each other if nothing else.

I kissed him fiercely, the taste of him dancing on my tongue. His hands slid down to my waist as my arms wrapped around his neck, allowing us to press our bodies together until there was no space left between us. My lips left a trail of soft kisses down his neck, coaxing a low moan from him.

"I love you," I whispered.

"I love you too, Melanie," he told me quietly. His fingers wrapped around my chin, tilting my face back up to his. His lips pressed against mine, hasty and demanding.

I yanked his shirt over his head in between kisses, throwing it to the side. My hands drifted across his sculpted chest before wandering lower, unbuttoning his jeans. He suddenly scooped me up, my legs tightening around his waist as we moved from the window.

My back hit the wall, and he easily removed my top, his fingers deftly unhooking my bra. Our breathing became ragged as the kisses deepened, neither of us able to get enough of the other. As if we had to make up for all the time we had spent apart.

He pushed away from the wall, his hands still under my thighs as he carried me toward the bed. We hadn't even made it a few steps before he stumbled over one of the books I had tossed on the floor. I squealed with laughter as he dropped me, but I managed to keep myself upright. He gave me an exasperated look but couldn't help and laugh too.

"Uh- my bad."

I bent down and moved the book back onto the desk. When I turned around, I froze at Steve's expression. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back toward him.

"What?" I demanded, utterly lost. He spun me around, moving my hair out of the way.

"What are these scars from? They weren't there before," he breathed, his fingers gently tracing the jagged lines across my back. Oh. I had forgotten about them.

"The fight on the beach in New York. His talons practically shredded my skin. Stephen did the best he could, but I was out of it for a while, so I didn't get to heal myself. The longer I wait- the worse the scar is," I shrugged. I had no mark from the wound I had received in Wakanda because I had been able to get to the water immediately.

I turned to face him again, his eyes immediately darting down to the smaller scar on my stomach. The one I had got in Scotland, and he had seen with his own eyes. His expression grew dark, and my hand reached up to caress his cheek.

"Do they bother you?"

He made a disgruntled noise, "Of course not."

"Then forget about them," I mumbled against his mouth as I pulled him back down. He did thankfully, picking up where we had left off.

The rest of our clothes quickly disappeared. His fingers weaved their way into my hair, pulling me against him. I gasped when he gently bit my lower lip, tugging on it teasingly. We had inched our way across the room, and I pushed him back until he fell onto the bed with me on top of him. His hands rested on my hips as he drank me in, his eyes burning with passion.

"You're perfect," he murmured, my heart clenching at his words and his admiring gaze.

I kissed him again, more demanding now, as if I needed him right then and there. I savored every touch, every caress. My fingers dug into his skin as we moved perfectly together, like we had been molded for each other. He was everything I needed. I'd never stop falling in love with the man before me.