More Than A Hero

Colors (Steve X ANY)

https://www.wattpad.com/user/Dalilahshigaraki/conversations-I posted an important announcement, please check it out, lovelies! 

50 chapters....I've never written anything so long....Thanks for the reads! And the support! (Definitely looking at you, -ERERl and toliveornottolive!!!! No one has been more encouraging than the two of you!!! ) I wouldn't be here if not for everyone who read this. The number of reads is a huge motivator for me!!!

This chapter starts based off a deleted scene from the first Avengers movie!

You were sitting at the foot of Stark Tower. At least, that's how it appeared to anyone who cared to look. In reality you were trying to decide if you should end it all. None of your friends were with you anymore. They'd all moved, and never tried to talk. The last one left a year ago. No one in New York ever talked to you. When you heard a waitress say something, you turned your head. The first thing you noticed was a perfectly detailed sketch of the tower. And then the artist turned his head, and...

"Your eyes are a really pretty shade of blue," you blurted. Both you and the man blushed. "Th-thanks?" He said with a slight laugh. "I didn't mean to say that out loud, ay dios mío..." You sunk as far into your chair as you could, but then looked at the sketch he'd made. "Y-your drawing is really good... I couldn't help but notice..." The man smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Thanks! I'm Steve, by the way. Steve Rogers. And you?" He moved over to your table, making you smile. "Y/N. Y/N L/N."

"The pleasure is all mine, Y/N."

The two of you became fast friends, and he'd constantly come over to your house when he wasn't off being a hero. Another thing yo did, because you both liked art, was pick out colors for emotions. Blue was sad, red was mad, pink is safe/loved, purple is sad + red/pink, white is every emotion, black is no emotion, and so on. It made communicating even easier than it already was.

Today was no different from every other day, aside from his eyes lacking their usual shine. "You okay? You seem off," you noted. Steve flopped down onto your bed with a sigh, his head in your lap. "I feel blue. Even more so than when I almost got you killed in the Battle of New York," he grumbled. "Hey, I told you I'm fine. I think having a robot hand looks cool, Steve."

Eight years ago, when Loki tried to take over the world, Steve threw his shield at a Chitari that was about to stab your chest. His shield knocked the alien off course, but he still managed to take off your non-dominant hand. You still almost died, but never got mad at him for it. The hand was now replaced with a mechanical one made by Iron Man himself. "Why are you so blue, Diamond?" You asked him, running your metal fingers through his golden locks. 

Steve blushed at the name; he always did. You'd been calling him Diamond for the whole time you knew him, because of his eyes. It was then you noticed a sliver of blue under his shirt and realized how rushed he was to get to you. "Steve, did something happen?" You pulled his shirt up, revealing the red white and blue of his hero-suit. "You never come in uniform."

He closed his eyes. "Remember Sokovia?" You nodded. He'd been coming over a lot lately because of it. "The government thinks we've damaged too much. They want us to work for them... The team is split up about it. And then there's the whole Bucky thing, and-" A knock made you both tense. "Wait here," you hissed, then walked to your door. Sam Wilson and a rugged looking man stared at you when you opened it. "Is th- Are you Bucky?" 

"Yeah... Is he here?" A nod, then Steve cautiously walked over. You felt his hands on your hips and blushed, then realized he was shaking, just slightly. Oh, Steve, you thought. "Come in, it's safe here. I promise." Once they were out of earshot, you turned around to face Steve. "Hey, I'm here for you, okay? It's okay. Whatever you n-" The hero hugged your waist, hiding his face in your hair. "Thanks, Y/N. I'm feeling light purple now." You smiled; he might still be a little sad, but at least he felt safe. "Let's get you to pink, Diamond."

________

You stared at your phone, trying not to cry. So many texts you'd sent to Steve, and none of them had a response. Tony had come by earlier (with a bruise on his face that made you give him an ice-pack) and told you Steve was off the grid. Tears started to fall as you thought about it. Sure, he was done with the Avengers, but why did it have to feel like he was done with you? SOmeone knocked on your door, so you wiped at your face, unmoving otherwise. They knocked again, more urgently, and you stood. "Coming!"

As soon as you opened the door, you started crying again. Steve pulled you against him, murmuring words of comfort. "I'm here now...It's okay, Y/N, it's okay... I'm right here..." Once you'd stopped shaking, you pulled away to look at his face. His eyes were ripped with red, like he'd been doing the same thing as you before he came. "My texts-" His head dipped closer to yours, then he lifted it again, looking anxious. "I saw them. All of them. I just couldn't reply, or they'd be able to track me. I'm so sorry, Y/N." You nodded and looked into his beautiful blue eyes. (I am not sorry for that description.) "Pink. Very, very pink."

It took him a second to understand, then he smiled. "Me too." Before he could finish, your hands were on his cheeks, your eyes beginning to fill with another round of tears. "Not that pink," you whispered, "the other one." Steve's eyes widened for a second, then he moved his face closer to yours, so close your noses almost touched. "This pink?" He whispered back, eyeing your lips. An almost imperceivable nod, then he kissed you. Just once, and so softly you almost didn't feel it. You stood on your toes and pressed your lips firmly into his, tears streaming down your face. His hands, now on your hips, pulled you so close there was no space between the two of you.

People always described love as a hot fire, burning in their chests, but right now another description came to mind. A color; the color for every emotion. The color that was every color put together. White. Love isn't just a single emotion or feeling, it's all of them. Sadness and joy, anger and peace. There is no 'love is like.' There's just 'love is.'

"I love you, and not in a pink way. In a white way," you said softly when you pulled away. Steve kissed a tear away. " I love you white. You're my favorite color."

Is it just me, or is the love is paragraph like, perfect? I've never liked anything I've written as much as those eight sentences.