america's assassin ➻ steve rogers

fourteen

There was a soft knock on my bedroom door the next morning that interrupted my morning doze that I yelled and threw the nearest thing at the door when it opened. Nothing crashed and when I lifted my head from the pillows, Natasha had caught the lamp I had thrown.

"Morning, sunshine," She said, glancing from the lamp and to me in bed. Then she looked around the room and frowned. "Where's Steve?" She asked. I grumbled something under my breath before I responded to her question.

"Why the hell would he be here?" I was still angry and confused about what had happened last night, and even more frustrated that I couldn't stop thinking about the way his fingers had folded into the band of my underwear the night before and the content soreness between my legs.

"Well, he is supposed to be on guard. I was going to swap with him." Her lips pursed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Where did he go?"

"He didn't come back with me, if that's what you're asking," I told her, letting my head drop back against the pillows. She didn't say anything for a minute and thought she had been content with my answer but then the bed compressed as she sat on it.

"Did you have a fight?" She asked carefully. I closed my eyes.

"We are always fighting," I reminded her. She placed a hand on my arm.

"I mean did you have a big fight? Not just griping at one another." I opened one eye to see her expression and saw her patient face staring down at me.

"What do you know?" I asked suspiciously. She shrugged.

"Really nothing," She said. "Sam just told me I might want to knock and wait for an answer before I came in here this morning. So I guess I'm wondering what that was about, and I guess I'm wondering why he would say that if Steve is not here." She gave me the Nat look that told me she knew everything even when she knew nothing at all. It was the look that always made me cave.

"It wasn't so much a fight as it was a tell all on his side, accompanied by a freak out on mine," I admitted. Her eyebrows furrowed together.

"I feel like I've missed a lot in the time you and I had apart and I think you need to start from the beginning," She said. I groaned and pulled a pillow over my face.

"I would rather die," I said, voice muffled. Nat plucked the pillow away and stared at me.

"Please start explaining."

"I would really prefer to talk about you and I," I said.

"Okay," She said. "I'll tell you how that conversation will go. We will both forgive one another for the things we said and did and I will apologise profusely for not telling you about Fallon sooner and you will eventually understand why I kept that from you, then we will hug and let it all go."

"Well, I might have added a few more apologies but I guess that's the gist," I muttered.

"We will talk about that, Mia, of course we will. But, I won't lie, this does seem to take precedence right now." She pursed her lips at me.

"You really won't let me off without telling you?" I asked. She shook her head and I groaned hard, shifting so I could sit up against the pillows. "By the way, nobody is even supposed to know about this. It is incredibly annoying so many people seem to know now."

"Explain." Nat rolled her eyes.

"I had sex with Steve," I groaned, attempting to pull the pillow Nat had taken from me back over my face but she pulled it away from me with a tsk of her tongue.

"Obviously," She said. "When?"

"Every time?" I squeaked, trying to pull the covers up as far as they go. Nat's eyes widened.