These are the Hands of Fate - Steve Rogers x OC

One: Have I Known You Twenty Seconds or Twenty Years?

January 8, 2020

Clinking glasses and the stringent aroma of percolating coffee from down the hall slowly pulled Maggie from her deep sleep. Lazily blinking awake, she took a moment and remained buried under her blankets, unmoving as consciousness invaded her brain and a small smile spread across her lips. Another year was in the books; twenty-nine had arrived, marking the beginning of the end of her roaring twenties. Truth be told, the past ten years hadn't all been a barrel of monkeys.

Although the decade had been tainted by the loss of her parents and the chaos of the changing world, she couldn't deny that she also felt as though she'd finally found her place in the world at the same time. It was like puzzle pieces had finally fallen into place and things made sense. Every day, she went to work at a job that she adored, she'd made new friends, kept old ones, had a happy social life, and she was extremely content in her new relationship with a wonderful guy.

Everything was coming up Maggie.

Shoving the layers of blankets from her body, she sat up and stretched her arms high above her head. A small groan slipped from her lips before she relaxed her limbs; they felt like jelly as she closed her eyes for one last moment, soaking in the last dregs of sleep before taking a deep breath and moving to stand. As if she went on autopilot, Maggie began the routine that she'd come to know so well since moving in. Glasses, brushing her teeth, splashing her face with cool water, absentmindedly scrolling on her phone for several minutes before realizing she was simply wasting time.

From where it hung on the back of her bathroom door, she pulled the cozy black robe that Natasha had given her for Christmas the year before. She allowed herself to bask in the luxurious softness of the silky fabric as she tied it around her waist, making her way down the hall. The smell of hot coffee got stronger with each step, and she gave a quiet hum at the imminent possibility of caffeine. The heavy steps in the kitchen were indicative of only one of the apartment's occupants; the other was far too trained in the art of reconnaissance to have such a loud presence.

Turning the corner, she spotted Steve as he moved around the kitchen. She watched him silently, reveling in the time that she had until he noticed her presence. Despite it being almost seven in the morning, he was still in his pajamas; clad in his usual pairing of a t-shirt and plaid, flannel pajama pants that Maggie was hellbent on stealing at some point because they seemed far too cozy to ignore. His face was scruffy, the way Maggie liked it, and his dirty blonde hair was mussed from sleep, sticking out with cowlicks at odd angles and making the devilishly handsome man look boyishly cute.

She jumped as the toaster popped out several pieces of bread and at her soft, sharp inhale, Steve finally turned to look at her. His enhanced hearing was hard-pressed to miss even the faintest sound that she'd made. Pushing her glasses up as they slid down the bridge of her nose, she shot him a sleepy smile and wiggled her fingers at him in a small wave. Her voice, still raspy from sleep, was quiet when she spoke, "Good morning, handsome."

"Good morning to you, beautiful." He padded across the hardwood floor, easily carrying two mugs. With a gentle kiss that lingered just a second less than she had wanted it to, he pulled away as she gave a quiet grumble of discontent. He chuckled, carefully handing her the smaller coffee cup, "Sugar and that cinnamon, oat milk stuff you like."

"God, you're the best." She hummed, taking a sip of it. The warmth of the liquid spread through her, filling her before radiating out to her fingers and toes on the cold winter morning.

Sometimes she was struck with just how much he knew about her; her coffee preferences, her go-to orders at their favorite restaurants, the fact that she liked being the one to lock the door behind them so she knew it was done, the way she preferred to bundle up with several blankets instead of just turning the heat higher. Suddenly the warmth in her chest was from something more than her morning beverage.