Mister Rogers ⍟ || Steve Rogers

III. Gratitude

The next day, I decided it was my turn to take Steve on a date. I called a cab to pick us up from the Tower. During the short ride, Steve continuously pestered me about where I was taking him. I kept my attention on the window on my left, causing him to quit after four asks, realizing I wasn't going to give in.

"Close your eyes," I ordered suddenly as our cab halted.

"Why—"

"Steve," I giggled, "Come on, close your eyes!"

"Alright," he said, closing his eyes. I ushered him out of the cab and then turned around to quickly tip the driver. I gave him a little extra for not giving in to Steve's questioning.

I took his hand in mine, guiding him straight ahead to our destination.

"Aaaand...open!" I watched his face excitedly, anticipating his reaction.

His eyes filled with awe as he took in the breathtaking sight of the sparking bridge ahead of us. After a long day of researching the best spots in this city, the Brooklyn Bridge was the clear winner.

He turned to me, his eyes suddenly carrying old memories. I furrowed my brows, "Sorry, I just figured since you—"

He shook his head, a pure smile on his face, "No, thank you for taking me here."

I smiled back at him, starting towards the bridge, "Shall we?"

We started out walking in a comfortable silence. Giving him a quick glance, I could see his thoughts were elsewhere.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I asked.

He exhaled, the corners of his lips quirking up, "It just really takes me back."

I nodded, unsure if I should press the subject. Stealing another look at him, I noticed that his face was completely at ease, free of any tension. Hesitantly, I asked, "Do you miss it?"

Steve's eyes softened for a moment, as if he could see a flicker of his past on the bridge in front of us. "I would be lying if I said I didn't," he said quietly.

"Of course. I mean it would be crazy not to, right? I guess what I'm trying to ask is..." I bit my lip, choosing my next words carefully, "is this new life, enough?"

His stopped in his tracks at my words. When I looked back up at him, he was staring at me.

My eyes fell to the ground and I turned away from him, "Sorry, I shouldn't have—"

Just as I turned away, his hand caught mine. He pulled me gently to face him again, his soft gaze still focused on my eyes.

"The '40s are my past. This, you, everything else—Addy, my future is here."

I smiled at him, slightly surprised by his openness.

Steve ran the back of his hand up and down my arm as he spoke, "And to answer your question, you make it more than enough. I'm extremely grateful for you, Addy."

Warmth filled my cheeks as I broke eye contact, unsure of what to say or do. Noticing his hand still trailing along my arm, I reached out with my other hand and took it gently. I gave it a squeeze, hoping it would convey everything I couldn't bring myself to say.

Hand in hand, we continued to walk along the bridge, talking about everything. He looked back fondly on his memories during his time in the army. I laughed, trying to picture little Steve getting beat up in dark alleys.

"So, what about you?" He turned his head to look down at me. I looked up at him, confused. He clarified, "Your life before—"

"Oh. My. God!"