𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 ✓

19 • Snowstorm

CHAPTER NINETEEN: SNOWSTORM

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After a peaceful, refreshing sleep, Angel woke up in Steve's arms again, the outside still rather dark. She realized that this day was really there now. She would leave for New York in the late afternoon, leaving Steve alone in London, all by himself. And despite the fact that he had assured her that he would be fine, the young brunette had her doubts about that. With closed eyes, she snuggled up closer against the man beside her. Steve was still fast asleep, his chest heaving steadily, his lashes casting shadows onto his cheeks. Angel didn't want this moment to end when at the same time, the anticipation about seeing her family again excited her. She had never found herself so torn between two places.

"Hey, Angel," his soft, raspy morning voice got her out of her snooze. She took a deep breath and let her eyelids flutter open, tilting her head up so she could see his beautiful, beautiful face.

"Morning," she whispered, letting one palm run across the fabric of his tee, feeling the warmth radiating from underneath it. She wanted to say so much more. Beg him again to come with her, to stop being so proud. But she knew that it would only upset him. Steve Rogers was one stubborn man, she learned that much over the past weeks. As considerate as he usually was, sweet and gentle, there were times where he needed the control, the ability to make the final decision.

"Did you sleep well, Doll?" he mumbled back at her, a hint of a smile decorating his lips. His free arm lifted, and cool fingertips stroked a loose strand of hair out of Angel's face. She sighed happily at the contact.

"In your arms? Always," she answered with a sweet grin on her lips, and Steve huffed in response, his own smile intensifying. Even from her angle, he looked perfect. Her smile faded upon a realization.

"So I won't sleep well for the next two weeks," she added, half-jokingly. She knew that being with her family would make her feel comfortable and cozy in an instant, but the thought of leaving Steve alone was ever so prominent in her mind. He pulled her closer to her, one hand combing through her hair.

"We will be fine," he promised her, and it didn't sound like he was so sure about that himself. However, he tried his best to hide it. "As I said, just think of being with your family again."

That let a blissful smile emerge on her freckled face again, and she pressed herself up to sit. A glance at the clock told her it was after twelve already. Had they really slept so long? Why was it so dark and grey outside?

"It's late already," she mumbled, getting out of bed, throwing on a cardigan that had hung on the back of her bedroom door, and hushed to the window. Outside, the clouds had covered the sky in a dark grey. Thick snowflakes whirled around in a high wind. Angel could barely see the street down there, but she could see the cars that were almost completely buried underneath the snow. Not a single person was to be seen. The snow must've been about 20 inches deep by now, judging from how high it covered the street light posts and stairs up to the front doors of the houses. It was a full-grown snowstorm, and Angel ran her fingers through her hair.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, still a little sleepy. He stretched his tired limbs, which normally would've been something the young brunette would want to watch, let her eyes follow the flexing muscles underneath the shirt with her mouth watering. Now, though, she had slight fear in her eyes. Hectically, she ran to the living room and turned on the TV. The reception was awful, the picture was interrupted by glitches and an unpleasant buzzing noise, but the news were still good to understand. Angel stood before her couch, hands covering her mouth as the reporter revealed something fateful.

"Starting now, no planes can leave or land in the entire south of the country. The snowstorm is predicted to last until next week but could remain until New Year's. Please stay at home if possible, only leave the house for necessary chores. Stay safe, England, and stay inside."

And Angel's eyes watered as she realized that this was the end of her plan to visit home. She fell back onto the couch, the words from the TV blurring out. As her blank eyes barely followed the things that happened on screen, Steve entered the room. The moment he noticed her uncontrolled sobbing, worse than it had been yesterday, he instantly rushed to her side, strong arms wrapping around her.

"Angel," he let out concernedly, holding her tight against him while his gaze drifted to the TV. The young brunette tried to explain, but her words got interrupted by sobs and hiccups.

"Shit," Steve breathed, apparently not even realizing he had cussed, and he swayed her in his arms, placing kisses on her scalp, one hand holding the back of her head. Her tears wetted his shirt, but she didn't care. She would have to wait until next year to see her family again.

"It's going to be fine," he tried to comfort her, but she frantically shook her head against him, sobs shaking her body.

"No," she choked out, "I can't go home, Steve."

What Angel couldn't possibly know was that at that very moment, Steve's heart shattered into a million pieces. What Angel knew though was that he wasn't going to let her go any time soon. So she let her body melt against him, silently crying into his shirt, desperately holding onto him, fabric gathered in her clenched fists. And he didn't seem to mind. All he did was hold her close, whispering assuring words into her hair, letting her cry it all out.

"Shhh, my Angel," he murmured, and then, "I'm so sorry about this," and, "I'm here, shhh."

All those words soothed her aching mind. After some time, her tears dried, her sobs stopped shaking her entire body. There was nothing she would be able to do about this situation but call her parents and tell them she wouldn't be able to be there. Which would break her heart. But it had to be done. For now, however, she enjoyed feeling Steve's body heat against her own, feeling his arms holding her close. She backed away after what felt like an eternity way too short.

"Steve," she simply mumbled, her puffy face aching from the crying. She let her gaze dance over his concerned face. His eyebrows were pinched together, making the crease in between them appear again, his eyes searched for something in her face.

"I'm so, so sorry," he said, and he meant it. Angel could tell by the way he said it, sincere and compassionate, soft and worried. She couldn't help but lean in and place a grateful kiss on his lips. It wasn't a kiss they usually shared, lustful and harsh. It was a sweet, innocent kiss, only her lips pressing against his. The hand that had previously rested on the back of her head now slid to her cheek and cupped it gently. The kiss lasted a few seconds, and Angel made sure to put all of her gratitude and affection for him into it. When they pulled away, she had a sad smile on her face. His thumb brushed away a stray tear that had found its way onto her cheek.

"I have to call my parents," she let out, and he nodded understanding. She kissed him once more, a quick peck on his lips that still was enough to make her melt slightly, and got up to get her phone.

Her parents were devastated, understandably. Angel cried at how disappointed they sounded about the news. Even Nova expressed how sad she was. Christmas was a family holiday after all. And this one was supposed to be special. Was. Now, all Angel could do was wait for the storm to be over. When she eventually hung up the phone after twenty minutes, she realized Steve was still sitting beside her, and that he was squeezing her hand comfortingly. She sniffed and glared over at him.

"I guess you won't be alone on Christmas after all," she joked, her voice still throaty and dry from the weeping. Making jokes about the situation seemed like the best coping mechanism to her. Steve leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers. His face hadn't distorted, not even an amused huff had left his lips. With both their eyes closed, they stayed in their position of heads leaning against one another. Then, in a breathy whisper, he eventually responded to her utterance.

"And neither will you."