His Girl(Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Twenty-one: Secrets

Author's Note:
This is just a short filler chapter. The next one is better i promise!!!
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*Steve's POV*

Sleep eluded me. Every time I closed my eyes, the events of the day replayed in vivid detail—the sight of Y/N on that table, the fear that gripped my heart, and the moment Bruce told me about the blood match. My mind was a storm of thoughts, none of which would let me rest. And at the center of it all was that diary, sitting on her desk like a beacon, calling to me.

I tossed and turned, the sheets tangled around my legs as I tried to find a position that would bring even a semblance of comfort. But it was no use. My thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N, to the secrets she might have hidden away in those pages. What was she hiding? And why?

I sat up in bed, running a hand through my hair in frustration. I couldn't ignore it. Not now. Not after everything that had happened. The questions gnawed at me, each one more persistent than the last. I had to know. I had to understand what was going on, for her sake as much as my own.

Quietly, I slipped out of bed, my bare feet making no sound as I crossed the room. The compound was silent at this hour, the halls dimly lit and deserted. I made my way back to her room, the journey feeling much longer than it had earlier. My heart pounded in my chest, a mixture of guilt and determination propelling me forward.

When I reached her door, I hesitated for a moment, my hand hovering over the panel. Was this really the right thing to do? Would she forgive me if she knew? But I pushed the doubts aside. This was about more than just curiosity. This was about her, about protecting her, about understanding the truth that she might not have been able to share.

The door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing the room exactly as I had left it. The diary was still there, sitting on her desk, untouched. I took a deep breath and stepped inside, the door closing quietly behind me. The room felt different now, almost heavier, as if it held the weight of the secrets that had been kept within it.

I approached the desk, my footsteps barely audible on the floor. The diary seemed to glow in the dim light, the worn leather cover almost inviting me to open it, to delve into the mysteries it held. My hand trembled slightly as I reached for it, my fingers brushing over the soft, aged leather.

This was it. The point of no return. Once I opened it, there would be no going back. But I couldn't let that stop me. Not now.

I picked up the diary, its weight surprising in my hands. For a moment, I just stood there, staring down at it, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts. What would I find in these pages? Would it change everything between us? Would it answer the questions that had been plaguing me since Bruce revealed the blood match?

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. This felt wrong, and yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that it was necessary. Y/N was hiding something—something big. And I needed to know what it was.

With a final glance around the room, I turned and left, the diary clutched tightly in my hand. I moved quickly, the adrenaline pumping through my veins making me hyper-aware of every sound, every shadow. The compound was eerily quiet, the silence amplifying the beating of my heart.

When I reached my room, I slipped inside and locked the door behind me, the familiar surroundings offering a small measure of comfort. I placed the diary on my bed, staring down at it as if it were a live wire, sparking with electricity. My mind was in turmoil, a war between the need to know and the fear of what I might uncover.

For a long moment, I just stood there, my mind racing. I could still hear her voice, feel her presence, the warmth of her hand in mine as I'd begged her to come back to me. What right did I have to invade her privacy like this? And yet, what choice did I have? She was more than just a teammate, more than a friend. She was... everything.

I sat on the edge of the bed, the diary still unopened beside me. My hands shook as I reached for it, my breath catching in my throat. I had to do this. For her. For us. The truth was buried in these pages, and I needed to unearth it, no matter the cost.

With a deep breath, I finally opened the diary, the pages creaking softly as they revealed their contents. My heart pounded in my chest as I looked down at the first page, my eyes scanning the words written in her familiar, elegant handwriting.