These are the Hands of Fate - Steve Rogers x OC

Ten: In Paper Rings, In Picture Frames, In All My Dreams

January 13, 2021

Neither Steve nor Maggie was well versed in the art of taking a vacation, but they'd slowly acclimated to the activity over the past week. Friday, on her birthday, she'd awoken to coffee, the annual portrait that Steve had taken to giving her, and a postcard of The Cape. In true Maggie fashion, she'd protested the birthday celebration before Steve carefully framed the trip as an anniversary gift. It seemed as though a year had come and gone in the blink of an eye. That evening, the couple had taken the drive up the coast before checking in to an old rental house that rested on the beach.

The closest neighbors were several hundred yards away, but it didn't seem to matter. Somehow, in the small town in which they'd found themselves, it was as if they were just another normal couple. Having forgotten the glasses and hat that he typically wore as a disguise when they were out, Steve had decided that it was time to try and let go of that part of himself. It felt like a dream when no one had batted an eye as Captain America and his girlfriend strolled through the farmer's market that had been set up in the town square.

It was barebones since The Snap, with half of its vendors gone, but Steve couldn't help his smile as Maggie dragged him from stall to stall, filling the reusable bags she'd picked up from yet another local store. When planning the surprise trip, he'd known her far too well. Always the introvert, he knew she'd favor an intimate getaway over a city adventure or a tropical paradise. She much preferred shopping for artisan breads and homemade jams over parasailing from a boat on the ocean.

Their week alone was drawing to a close and, for once in her life, Maggie wasn't prepared to return to the real word. There was something so beautifully normal in what they'd cultivated in the saltbox house that sat on the icy beach. Every morning, they'd wake with their own internal clocks, and he'd bring her coffee in bed, because he always woke first. He'd stoke the dying fire that warmed the room before she'd drag him back into bed as they planned their day ahead.

It was a rarity but, for once, she'd somehow managed to wake before the early riser. It was humorous how they always migrated in the night. Though the couple always fell asleep as he held her close to his chest, they typically awoke to Maggie cuddling him instead, her cheek pressed against the warm surface of his broad back or chest as she siphoned some of the heat from his body in her sleep.

Blinking the remnants of her dreams from her eyes, she could feel the stable heartbeat thumping under her ear. His arm was still around her, keeping her securely against his side even as he slept. Careful not to jostle him awake, she moved to rest her chin on his chest to watch him silently. She seldom got to see him like this, the tension taken from his jaw and brow as he finally allowed his brain and body time to rest.

It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment it had happened, that she'd fallen in love with him; it had been gradual like the progressing orange and yellow swirls setting the blue sky ablaze outside as the sun began to rise.

A hand softly brushed through his hair as she admired his face, one she always thought rivaled the beauty of the marble ones that resided in the ruins of Greece and Rome. The slight bump in the bridge of his nose. The few moles that speckled his fair skin. The cupid's bow of his lips that sent an arrow through her heart every time they touched her's. His chest rose and fell with each deep breath, his soft exhales the only sound aside from the crackling wood that sent swirling, gray smoke up through the flume.

"How long are you going to stare at me?"

Maggie jumped, removing her hand from his hair as his gruff, sleep-rasped voice pulled her from her distracted reverie. The clear, ocean blue eyes opened lazily as he peered down his nose at the woman who occupied his arms, a crooked smile on his lips.