brooklyn - steve rogers. / captain america.

thirty-one.

anastasia presley james
chapter thirty-one.
jan. 28, 2014

the crisp air hits my lungs and my eyes, tears brim my eyelids. i look down at my fingers and realize fingertips are practically frozen.

i have no idea where i am on a map, but all i know for sure is that i'm safe, and that it snows a lot.

"hey, ana?" i turn to look the source of this echoing voice, it's steve.

he's wearing a blue long sleeve thermal that buttons up at the neck, and some grey sweatpants. i look down at my hands and realize i haven't stopped wearing all black since the day we left tony.

i walk up the steps of back porch area and pass steve, who is leaning against the frame of the doorway, making my way into the living area. i hear a gentle close of the door closing and the sound of the wind coming to an end.

"whats up?" i ask, as i walk into the warm house. i peel my eyes away from the floor and meet with his blue ones.

his hands wrap around a white mug, probably filled with the hot coco i made earlier.

"we've been here for too long, we have to pick where we need to move next," i sigh at his words and nodded.

"can't we just wait for the winter to pass us by? i love the snow," i look out the window, watching as the snow falls.

"we can go ice skating," i propose, and he shakes his head.

i roll my eyes and shrug with a soft smile.

"you know, we haven't really done much except talk about what we want to do," i pause, "are we ever going to actually execute the millions of plans we keep coming up with?" i ask steve, causing a more exhausting sigh to esparce his mouth,"okay, geez, we'll leave soon. i'll be packed and ready in 20 minutes."

i start taking my hat and scarf off and attempt to make my way to what is initially my bedroom.

"no, ana, i-" his words make me stop in action,"we can stay through the winter."

i watch his eyes look at the couch and then look up at me, "will you sit with me?"

i nod, and make my way over. steve gives me a half-hearted smile.

i feel my heart ache and wish to myself that i could erase all of the problems that have happened. i know all he wants to do is make me happy, i also know that he's more afraid of me being anything but happy than anything else.

"any word on bucky?" i ask, steve tenses,"sorry."

there's a deck of cards scrambled on the table in front of us and i realize i left them when i was playing solitaire earlier.

i shake my head in self disappointment and start wrapping the deck of cards with a elastic band.

"no," steve begins,"you don't have to apologize, you have a the right to be concerned and to know."

as it turned out, king t'challa of wakanda had been accompanying us in siberia. he sought out revenge for the killer who allowed his father, the late king, to be collateral damage in a political play. king t'challa originally had his eyes set on bucky, the winter soldier, but came to know that it wasn't bucky. it was zemo, the man who grieved his family and his life before sokovia. the king returned zemo to the authorities and offered to bring aid to bucky and help him overcome the codes hydra instilled upon him to become the winter soldier.

it's been months since i've seen bucky, or anyone. it's been sam, steve, and me. sam hasn't really enjoyed our time together. he loves us and i love him, i think it would be hard for anyone to spend this much time with us if we came this far and still couldn't figure out our issues. sam often delegates when it comes to steve and i, even mediates.