Champagne Problems x Steve Rogers

Champagne Problems

The bluish screen's light lit up her face in the night, her finger hesitating on the red banner "buy ticket," it says. The station was almost completely empty, aside from the one homeless man finding shelter inside from the storm outside.
It was the last train. "Maybe I should wait for the morning to come," She thought to herself, checking the time, but she knew it wasn't going to happen.
She booked the night train, a one-way ticket, packed lighter than ever, just her purse and a red scarf she was holding tightly in her hand. That would allow her to wallow in her sadness.
The wind was blowing loudly outside, making the trees bend and shake.
Flashbacks of what happened just a few hours back were already hunting her.

"We've been together for years now," Steve had broken the silence at the table during the first course. It had been in the air for a while, the ghost of an incoming news that should have been jolly but felt rather eerily. Something she had tried to avoid for as long as she could.

The automatic voice went over the same announcement, notifying her train was about to arrive.
The few steps that brought her closer to the yellow line seemed to put miles between her and that city she had loved for so long. Or at least that's what she had trained herself to think.

"Will you marry me?" Steve's blue eyes seemed to shine with a different light that night, it felt like such a waste to kill it.
Four words, their echo still bunching in her head.
Although echo doesn't feel like the right word. Echo happens in empty spaces, and even though there was no love to fill it, she knew she was far from being bellesed with the beauty of ignorance. She knew exactly what was happening. It had been obvious for months now, but she didn't have the guts to address it.

She found an empty seat next to a window and sat there, her eyes immediately getting lost in the darkness outside.
The train began to move again, taking her far from all the noise her departure was going to cause, and even worse, the silence it was going to cause.
A silence filled and dipped in harsh judgment.
Even there, she could already hear them talk. "She would've made such a lovely bride," they would sigh, "what a shame she's fucked in the head," they would add scornfully.
But her heart knew it was the right thing to do, thought it was long postponed.
She had to let him go, so that he could find the real thing instead, a true love, someone that will patch the tapestry that she shred.
someone who'll hold his hand, dance with him, walk next to him step after step. Someone who catch his heart of glass that she dropped, and will keep it safe.

A man sitting alone in the left aisle took out his wallet, letting out a tired, heavy sigh. There was a picture in his wallet, a yellowish picture of a woman. He stared at it for a few seconds, a little smile appeared on his face before he put the picture away.
Her heart broke once more, Steve has always kept her picture in his wallet since they got together. Its corners are worn-out, and the paper is thinner, but he never took it out.
Will another woman replace that very special spot? Will he let it happen or will he simply stop carrying a photo in his wallet?

Her hands fell into her lap, her head hitting the headrest. "What does it matter?" She whispered to herself.
She was the one leaving, what say did she get in whose picture Steve will keep in his wallet? None.
She had given up her chance at being with him, but she couldn't set her mind. Was it the right thing?
Did she really let go to waste something so perfect?
Her mind went back to the time they had spent together, how special he made it feel. How perfect.
A kind of perfection that results too much, to constructed, unnatural.
Midas touch still let people starve, not matter how shiny, you can't eat gold, and she had broken her teeth trying to swallow a love she didn't feel right. Not anymore.
He managed to make a home out of a madhouse, and showed her she belonged to somewhere better, that she could have more.
But Steve saw love where she saw a steadiness, tranquillity.

Her phone went off with another call. She waited for it to stop before deleting the number. Steve wasn't the only one she was leaving behind. Turns out there was no evergreen for her, and those who she used to call friends were now too busy wondering why, but she couldn't even find a reason for why their love slipped in such a crestfallen way.
It all happened so suddenly, like slipping on wet tiles while wearing high heels. It makes your heart flutter.
They were dancing but she had dropped his hand, an interrupted exhibition, a show cut short.
The audience was left speechless, just like he was. Even though he had spent nights writing out his heart.

"I guess we won't need this anymore..." his sister had said as his parents shook their heads, forever skeptical. Steve had told them just the night before. He wanted it to be a surprise, but he couldn't keep it in.
"But why wait so long?" A voice whispered in the room, that question stuck with him as he stared at the Dom Pérignon left unscrewed on the table, drops of condese made a little pool of water underneath it.
But as the train approached its destination, to her it became more clear what the reasons was.
Steve had to drop to his knee and pop the question for her to realize she was not ready, she had to watch him go. He had to be the stronger one, the one who leaves, because she didn't it have in her.
She wasn't ready to love him like he deserves, and she wasn't ready to admit it.

But not matter how tragic that was, it was always theirs to feel.
Sooner enough, the same halls that saw them break apart will be decked like nothing happened. Like joy was the only thing that ever stumbled across those walls.
People drift apart every day, and they will remain nothing more than champagne problems to those who only see them from across those halls.
Until his mom's ring is back in his pocket, and he will have another picture in his wallet and then, he won't remember all her champagne problems.