In 1940s New York, Florence Rogers loses everything. First, her longtime friend, Bucky Barnes and then her brother, Steve, as well. But when she wakes up and realises that she's travelled through time, she just might have the opportunity to see thos...
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FOLDED CAREFULLY ON TOP of my shoulder bag is one of Steve's old flannel shirts. I don't know whether I should bring it to Sam's sister's place or not, which is where Bucky and I have decided to stay for at least a few days. On the one hand, I've been making a concerted effort to let Steve go a bit, to stop wallowing in my grief and I don't think wearing his shirt is a step forward in that respect. But on the other hand, it brings me so much comfort. It still smells like him, even after I've washed it a dozen times.
I frown down at the shirt, then end up shoving it to the bottom of my bag and zipping it up. I'm not quite ready to let Steve go yet.
I yank on my boots, haul my bag onto my shoulder and hurry downstairs to where Bucky is waiting. Things have been horribly stilted between us since last night...
"Are we going to be late?" I ask him, fiddling with the strap of my bag.
"We still got some time before we have to get to the airport." He avoids eye contact with me like he's avoiding the bloody plague.
I was going to suggest that we drive to Louisiana, make a road trip out of it. But spending that much time in a car together right now doesn't seem like a good idea.
In uncomfortable, tense silence, we stand there. I can still feel the ghost of his lips against mine, tearing me up inside.
My phone rings. Thank god.
I quickly answer it, turning away from Bucky and moving into the lounge room. "Hey, Daisy!"
"Hey, sorry I missed your call last night but I was asleep, like a normal person. Why were you calling me in the middle of the night exactly? Is everything ok?"
I glance over my shoulder at Bucky, still standing near the front door, and move further away, cupping the phone close to my ear and mouth.
"Not really, to be honest. I need some advice, real quick," I say in a hushed tone.
"Alright, what's going on?"
I pause, trying to think of a way to word my question. "I'm having a problem with controlling my powers," I say slowly. "When I get... flustered, it's like they overwhelm me and I have to remove myself from the situation or I feel like I'm going to accidentally time-jump."
"Well, our powers feed off our emotions. If you're intensely upset or angry, then your control can start to slip."
"What if it's not a negative emotion?"
"You said you felt flustered?" Daisy questions.
I clear my throat. "Yeah, flustered. Or... overwhelmed? But in a good way."
There's a pause and then Daisy laughs loudly. I cringe, momentarily pulling the phone away from my ear. "You tried to have sex with him, didn't you? You don't mean flustered, you mean turned on!" Daisy chuckles.
