𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝑹𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔 || 𝟏𝟖+
❝I'm convinced that you are heaven in a person, Angel.❞
The one where a tired Steve Rogers escapes his past and ends up finding the love of his life during a very snowy Christmas time in London, UK.
「mcu; alternate...
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CHAPTER FOUR: CONFUSING REQUEST
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A few days later, the snow had stopped. Angel stood behind the counter at the café, wiping down the countertop with a bright yellow cloth. Adam was in the kitchen, preparing more plum pies, and only a few customers were still sitting around. It was Sunday, which meant that most people rather enjoyed the pretty weather instead of spending their hours inside a small café, sipping on hot chocolate. Most people that came in ordered a to-go.
"Did you empty the dishwasher?" Angel shouted toward the swinging doors behind which Adam hummed the same melody as always. An agreeing grunt came back, and the brunette washed the cloth in the sink. She had put on her favorite Christmas playlist once again, much to Adam's agony, and hummed along faintly while cleaning the counter area. The slight buzzing of the coffee machine added to the coziness of the moment, and the young woman found herself wondering when she would see him again.
Ever since he'd dropped her off at her home a few days ago, she hadn't seen Steve. He seemed to just have vanished, and she wished she could ask someone where he was. Unfortunately, she didn't know anyone that knew him.
"Fuck, I burnt my finger again," Adam's thick British accent reached her ear. The swinging doors opened, and her boss stepped behind the counter, holding his finger with his face distorted in pain.
"I'm telling you, get new oven mitts," Angel commented, unfazed by the affliction her boss went through a bit too often.
"Bullshit," he blurted out, then sighed in relief when he held his aching digit under cold running water. Angel arched a brow.
"Mind your language," she warned him teasingly, "There are kids in here."
"Oh, they'll learn that word sooner or later," Adam grunted, his pain-free hand morticed against the wooden countertop next to him as if he needed extra support. "And don't act like you're never cussing like a sailor, alright."
"Still," Angel sighed, and went back to enjoying her Christmas music.
"It's calm, Angel, why don't you take your break instead of scolding your old boss," he suggested after a few moments of him enjoying the soothing cold water running over his finger.
"You sure you can take it?" She teased him but was already taking off the apron, hanging it over the handle of one of the cabinets. It revealed her favorite winter outfit. Thick black tights were warming her legs while a dark green, corduroy dress hung down to the middle of her thighs. Underneath the sleeveless dress, she wore a black turtleneck, which contrasted the shining gold of her necklace perfectly. To round out the outfit, she wore cream knee-high socks, the thick ones she'd gotten from her mother for her birthday earlier this fall. Her feet were hidden in dark brown ankle boots that added about one inch to her height.
