𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 ✓

20 • Needed Comfort

CHAPTER TWENTY: NEEDED COMFORT

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The next day, Angel still felt lost. Though she liked the thought of her and Steve being with each other on Christmas, she had yearned to see her family again. But as she couldn't change the circumstances, she tried to make peace with the situation as she waited for Steve to come back. He'd left a while ago to go to his apartment and get toiletries and clothes. Angel had wanted to convince him that he didn't have to stay at her place until after Christmas, but he had insisted, planting sweet kisses on her lips, telling her that it will be a great Christmas nevertheless. And the young woman started to believe him.

She sat on her sofa, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, her eyes glued to the framed family picture hanging on the wall behind the TV, and hoped Steve would get back soon. She yearned for his warmth, for his comfort, and she was sure that he wouldn't complain about cuddling either. Of course, she'd also wondered whether he was hiding a hint of happiness underneath the compassion he showed her. At last, he would've had to stay in London all by himself if it hadn't been for that giant snowstorm.

The doorbell rang her out of her trance of staring at her family's picture, a group photo in which Nova was still taller (and older, for that matter) than Angel, and her mother and father were happily standing there, one arm wrapped around the other.

Angel buzzed Steve in, the blanket still wrapped around her delicate body, her feet in thick socks. The dark blond of his hair was hidden underneath the grey cable knit hat, which again was covered in frozen snowflakes that clung to the fuzzy material. He had similar white spots of snow sticking to his beard, his scarf, and his coat, even his lashes were heavy from the now melting ice. He had a duffel bag hung over his broad shoulder, stuffed with everything he had wanted to get. When Angel noticed that his free hand carried something huge, green, and heavy, packed into a net, she arched a brow.

Steve kicked his shoes off, his socks wet from the reckless snow outside. When he realized how Angel stared at the small Christmas tree he'd brought along, he chuckled, his warm breath melting the ice crystals in his beard.

"Interesting thing to bring from your apartment," Angel commented sarcastically, crossing her arms around her body to envelope herself in the giant blanket even more.

"Just had it laying around, you know," he jested back, making the young woman giggle as he leaned down to give her another sweet kiss. Ever since yesterday morning, their shared kisses had been nothing but sweet and innocent, just their lips pressing against one another, barely any tongue swiping across them. It felt like Steve held back as the young brunette was quite vulnerable since getting the horrible news of the cancellation. Which Angel appreciated as much as she hated it. She wanted to get lost in him again, feel his warm, soft skin pressed onto hers. But for now, she was slightly glad they were taking it a little slower.

"I saw this being on sale at the small shop around the corner," he now answered the indirect question of where the hell he'd gotten this tree in the middle of a snowstorm, "So I thought... we could decorate it. Make this place feel even more like Christmas."

Angel grinned, watching him lean the tree that didn't even reach her collarbones against the wall next to the entry to the living room.

"Splendid idea," she approved, now watching the man take off his coat, scarf, and hat. She patiently waited for him to hang the stuff on the wardrobe before shuffling toward him, her arms wrapping around him, her blanket getting pulled around him as she did. Even through his thick sweater, she felt how cold he must've been at that very moment. When she glared up at him, she frowned.

"You're freezing," she stated, and Steve shrugged faintly, leaning down until the cool skin of his forehead pressed against hers.

"Now I have plenty of time to warm up again," he whispered, then kissed her again. These small kisses made Angel believe that he truly was in for more than just the physical relationship they'd been having going on. Sure, there'd been more occasions than that to make her think about it, but now, the thought of him also having sincere feelings for her was prominently in her mind.

"I'll make us some hot chocolate and you put up the tree, how does that sound?"

He smiled at her, making her feel ever so grateful to have witnessed that again. She noticed how he'd begun to smile more and more often when they were together, and she loved it. And at the end of the day, maybe she truly loved him.

"Perfect," he whispered, another cool kiss landed on her lips, and they executed the plan immediately, with Angel rushing to the kitchen, getting out the two biggest mugs she could find, and Steve walking to the living room, where he put up the Christmas tree next to the TV.

It took about ten minutes until they were both standing in front of the plain tree, mugs in their hands, inhaling the soothing scent of the pine. Real fir trees were not easy to find.

"This is so sweet of you, Steve," Angel said, turning her head up in his direction. His eyes found hers, blue oceans filled with nothing but affection, sending warmth to spread in the young woman's chest.

"Anything for you, my Angel."

. . .

A while later, the snow had intensified in what seemed like hurricane-like wind, the Christmas tree was sparsely decorated with a few ornaments and fairy lights, which was pretty much everything Angel had in her house to decorate a Christmas tree — she'd never spent the holidays in this apartment, let alone in London.

The mugs of hot cocoa were empty, standing on the coffee table in front of the couch. Angel lay in Steve's arms, her eyes closed as she enjoyed his proximity. Her mind spiraled around the very same thought it had all day: When would she have the guts to ask Steve Rogers what they were exactly?

The blanket draped over their bodies, they had snuggled up on the couch, their bellies filled with delicious hot chocolate, kissing each other to get rid of that sliver of whipped cream that got stuck on their upper lips. It felt like a perfect movie scene to Angel, faint Christmas music playing on the radio in the kitchen. And yet, her heart was beating fast as she continued to think about when to best start the conversation about their relationship — and how she would begin.

"Are you okay, Doll?" His scratchy voice buzzed against her eardrums, and she hummed assuringly, cuddling up against him even more. By now, his body had warmed up completely, the skin underneath his sweater had come back to its usual comfortable warmth.

Angel thought about letting her hands wander underneath the thick fabric, counting his abs with her palms, but decided against it for the sheer reason that she felt too comfortable in this position to want to change it. But as much as she enjoyed this, it was rather boring after some time, and so she asked, her cheek pressed to his chest, "Do you wanna watch a Christmas movie?"

His grip around her waist tightened as she apparently had ripped him out of a dozing state, but she felt him nod.

"Sounds great," he said sweetly, "I barely know any."

"Let's change that," she mumbled with a smile on her lips, fishing the remote from the sofa's armrest, "Let me introduce you to the Grinch."

And as they watched a total of four Christmas movies that evening, all of which Steve had never seen before, Angel slowly forgot the pondering question she'd asked herself all day. Because this felt too good, too natural, too heavenly to think about anything else but the comfort she felt in those hours she spent with Steve.