˗ˏˋ romanogers oneshots ˎˊ˗

the remembering

Natasha sits at the table, drumming her fingers nervously, whilst looking at her watch. He's late again, or probably not going to show. Even if he does, it will be full of excuses, yet again. He had done this way too many times of late and se was getting sick of his no show attitude. Why was she still surprised? This wasn't the first time that had happened. Maybe it was because she was still holding to a small sliver of hope, stupid and typical because he would only break her heart over and over again. 

"Relax Red, he'll show." Tony reassures, squeezing her shoulder, providing a gentle comfort. 

Natasha realised that if she had anyone to blame for all the events that lead up to this, it would be Tony, for it was him that introduced the pair. 

She looks at her watch. He's 3 hours late. He's been late, but never this late. "Do you think he doesn't remember or he doesn't care?" She remarks out loud. 

"C'mon, Nat. He'll show." He replies, but a faint quiver in his voice leads her to believe he's slowly losing hope too. 

"No he won't. I know him. It's not the first time he's been late or stood me up. My birthday last year, our anniversary, our dates, valentine's day. I'm done. This is the last straw. If you see him, tell him it's over." She looks at her group of mutual friends she shared with him, shakes her head and gets up to leave. "And my lawyer will send him the papers."

Once she's out of the house, she runs. She runs like she's never ran before, so fast she's breathing so hard to the point where her lungs nearly give way and so far to the point where she cannot feel her feet in her stilettos. She kicks off her shoes, takes them in her hand and continues running, not caring how much the ground hurt her bear feet. The pain was good for her, it helped her feel something and feel grounded. Her mind however, was racing as flashbacks played like film reels in her mind. 

The first time they met. 

They were introduced by Tony, and their eyes locked from across the room at one of his parties. And it's like something magical happened between them. there was that instant connection. and when she introduced herself to him, something about him felt so familiar. It reminded her of home, comfort and safe. 

He shook her hand and introduced himself with his military title, forgetting that he was in an informal setting. 

Steven Grant Rogers, Captain. 

She was intrigued by his past and he was instantly hooked on her eyes. She loved the way her hand felt in his from the very first handshake. 

But perhaps she should have seen the signs in his similarity to her abusive alcoholic father. It was too late for that now.

The magical moments. 

The inbetween. The romantic gestures of extravagants of flowers, much to her complaints. The sending of gifts at the randomest times, the surprising her after work type thing. 

The date nights to bars and pubs. Bars and Pubs. The alcohol should have been a sign. But it wasn't. 

Their age gap scared her at times, but mostly it made her feel protected by him. She was 22 and he was 30. And it felt okay to her, despite her friends telling her otherwise. She left those friends. 

And he surprised her with tickets to Broadway. That's when she knew she loved him. She had known before, but this time she was sure. 

She enjoyed the show but something that she ignored in her gut told her something was very wrong when he fell asleep before the intermission. 

The proposal. 

He proposed under the Rockefeller Christmas Tree that Christmas, knowing that Christmas was her favourite time of the year. 

She agreed and they eloped before New Years'. 

Looking back, it felt like a rushed decision. They had known each other for barely two years when their marriage begun. And it was okay at first. Or at least it seemed like it.  

The marriage.

They lived under the same house, married in everything, including name. But it felt like something was missing. They loved each other, they were passionate and intimate with one another, it felt right. 

But passion wasn't enough to hold a marriage together. Passion was never enough. We know that from the world of literature where we read about passionate couples who fall apart over time and surely this was no different. But in her head, it was. 

The breaking point. 

When he started drinking and smoking again. He had quit for her sake, but something made him start again. She didn't know what or why, but he did. And she knew when he stumbled into the house at 2am, drunk beyond recognition and incapable of cohesive speech. Reeking of cigarettes and alcohol, and the smell of vomit one would only pick up from the many bars they stumbled into each night. 

That's when his military career ended too. The army dismissed him, declaring him unfit for combat duty due to medical conditions. A state of drunkenness that was. And the drinking only got worse from there. 

He started showing up late to date nights, even missing their anniversary. she told herself it was just a phase and it would all be better soon. But she lived in that delusion and told herself that lie far too many times. 

She was sick of making excuses for his behaviour and by validating him, compromising her own beliefs. 

The reeling 

She walked into her lawyer's office and requested divorce papers. Ones she should have gotten a long time ago when she first saw the signs. Or perhaps she shouldn't have married him at all. Her lawyer, Matt Murdock walks her though the process. And she can't help but notice how gentle he is in contrast to Steve.

Or are all men like that until you get to know them then marry them? 

Do all men prey on girls that much younger than the, charm them, get them to fall in love with them then proceed to shatter their heart into a million pieces?

She still loved Steve. But she didn't know if he loved her. Perhaps he didn't. Or maybe he did. She believed that if he truly loved her he would want what was best for her, and when they had reached a point of no return like such, it was to let her go. And he signed the papers returning them without hesitation. And the deal was sealed and done and over. But maybe he didn't love her at all, which explained the hasty pace on their relationship. Whatever it was, three years of her life had been wasted. But was it all worth it? 

Humans are strange creatures. They hate having their heart broken, yet they find a way to crawl back to those who break their heart time and time again, using love to justify their bad relationships, covering up overprotectiveness with comfort. Was love really that worth the risk? Apparently not. But there are people who would do it over and over again, in an endless cycle of beginnings and endings, love and hate. 

A/N: happy valentine's day. i hate the notion of it the idea of it and therefore here's a toxic love story to represent how i feel about valentine's day. and inserting an excerpt from my anti vday movement. 'Why should we celebrate Valentine's Day? Is it not a symbol of commercialised love and that one has to be loved to be validated. We give chocolates and roses and claim they're representations of love. But flowers die and chocolates melt. Why do we as a society reduce love down to this single day, to celebrate and commemorate. Do we not commemorate love on every other day? And does not getting flowers or chocolates represent unhappiness? Because who decided we needed a significant other in a romantic relationship to be happy? Does society dictate that single people cannot be happy, free and most importantly, single? Why must one have a partner to experience happiness? ' so yeah enjoy vote and comment and lmk your thoughts <</3