⭐ COMPLETE ⭐
❤️Steve Rogers❤️
They both know the truth.
But they love each other too much to accept reality...
What would happen if two people from two different reality fell in love?
Would their love be enough?
What if they are from the same world...
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I know I have to get up. I know I have to open my eyes. But I just can't. Today is one of those day when, if it weren't for my job, I wouldn't even get out of bed. The light that comes in softly from the window foretells what I already knew. The sunrise is near and my damned alarm is about to rings. It's 5:45 am, and like every morning, I turn off the alarm on my smartphone before it rings. Not that I can disturb anyone since I live alone with my father. My father. Painful point of my life. Or maybe it's better to define him as a pain in my ass. It's just me and him since mom died. I was 15 and I don't remember much but I remember the pain. Pain is what never goes away. I felt like a cold hand had pierced my chest and than tearing my heart, leaving me alone, defendeless and bleeding. A little girl abandoned to a father who basically never loved her. He didn't even love my mother. He alway lived only for his job. Him and mom were always arguing about his job. My mother wanted him to change job and run away from this place, to devote more time to her and me. But he felt no reason. He often yelled at her that he could have fallen in love with her. And I was asking myself the same question. My mom was sweet and good. When she entered in a room it was as if the sun entered too and she was able to make everything that revolved around her shine. She was my strength. She gave me the charge so that I would shine with my own light. I loved her, and I still love her, so much. My father, on the other hand, is a man of science. A scientist quite famous and respected. He is the classic man in suit and tie, a man capable of looking down on you with eyes full of contempt. The same contempt that he had never spared to give toward me. I've always been his biggest disappointment. I refused to follow his footstep. I always had my dreams, childish and foolish to him. And that's why he always compared me to my mother. As if it were a horrible thing. As if I wasn't proud of it. My biggest dream has always been acting. After graduating from the Bachelor of Fine Art in Theatre Arts in Brookville, the city I've been living since birth, I tried to do a few auditions but there were never any big opportunities here. I wanted to move to some big city but obviously my dad had never agreed. Among the thousand fights, he always blamed me for paying for a school that had nothing to offer and wouldn't pay an extra dollar for this silly bullshit. So I found myself forced to live with him again and do a job that I hated more every day. Whit these thoughts as heavy as boulders I get out of bed, shivering at the contact of my feet with the cold marble of the floor, I head towards the kitchen to prepare my usual tea with honey and lemon and try to get a move on otherwise I would have arrived late for work. After recovering myself a little from my dark thoughts I hurry upstairs to head to the bathroom and get ready. I look at myself in the mirror for a few seconds, noticing to my great disappointment that my hair was a mess this morning too. Curly and black waves come down on the shoulders, the olive skin that in the artificial light of the neon seems to acquire that yellowish hue and the large and dark eyes like onyxes. I have never liked me, too short and curvy, I have never reflected the aesthetic canons of society and consequently I have always felt uncomfortable around other people. Especially next to my peers. After wearing a simple pair of jeans and a blue sweatshirt, I put on my inevitable Converse and head out of the house. The bar where I work is just a few minutes from my house, so despite the fresh air of this quiet September morning I head to work walking. And here I am, at the age of 25, stuck in a job I hate. Surrounded by people I hate. People I have know since birth. Brookville is a small town in Indiana, with just over 2,500 people. That means everyone know everything about everyone. And I hate this. Often, while I serve some slimy fifty-year-old doing the usual squalid jokes about my cleavage, I imagine myself wandering the lights on the streets of New York. And lose myself in the enchantment of the Big Apple. After a grueling shift I go home only to find it empty. As I pass in the living room I notice the light on the phone flashing, I press the button to start the message and my father's scratchy voice warns me that he would not be back for dinner. Like every day after all. Better for me anyway, I would have taken the opportunity to take a nice warm bath. Then grab a snack and throw my self on the bed and reread Harry Potter for the thousandth time. God how I love this saga! After reading only twenty pages, perhaps thanks to the hot bath, I feel my eyelids get heavy. Unlike other nights I feel my heart begin to beat madly and despite my eyes are closed I can perceive a blue glow. And finally sleep took over my mind. What I still didn't know was that this night would change my life forever.
Thanks to those who have read this far. Thanks to those who will give me a chance. For those who follow me from TikTok I want to say that I have changed something compared to the POV to make the plot take on a more logical sense.
