Mister Rogers ⍟ || Steve Rogers

16

There was only a glimpse of sunlight peeking through my blinds when I woke. I couldn't bring myself to get out of bed, so I laid flat, staring at the ceiling for about half an hour before deciding to make breakfast.

I dragged my feet towards the kitchen, my entire body exhausted from my restless sleep. With Sam snoring loudly on the sofa all night, I wasn't even sure I truly slept at all.

By the time the smell of waffles filled the apartment, Sam was up and pacing the kitchen, eyeing the topping selection intently. I laughed at his seriousness but found myself equally competitive when we both reached for the whipped cream at the same time.

Once we had both successfully decorated our breakfast, I glanced up from my plate to see Sam squinting at me.

I brought my hand up to cover my mouth, which was full of waffles, and spoke a muffled, "What?"

"We need to talk," said Sam. Judging by his stoic expression and formal tone, I tensed, assuming to talk about Barnes.

I finished chewing before I asked, "About what?"

"You."

I raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue.

"And Steve."

Internally, I immediately cringed. Frozen, I stared at my food for a good minute in silence. Sam cleared his throat and I knew I had to say something.

"Oh yeah, he's a great friend," I said shortly, popping a large strawberry in my mouth.

Sam sassed, "You know what I mean."

I held a finger up as I chewed, moving my jaw as slowly as possible, as if this strawberry would somehow end the conversation. At a loss for words, my cheeks flushed a light pink as I grimaced at him.

Sam pointed his fork directly at my face. "You can't tell me you haven't seen the signs. I'm pretty sure you've been giving them too!"

"I do see them," I admitted shyly.

"Then, why are you not doing anything about it?"

I dragged a hand over my face. "Sam, I'm not good at this. I haven't dated in years, and the last time didn't exactly end great. I like him. Which makes it worse."

"Worse?"

"It's Steve," I groaned. "We work together. We fight together. If this goes sideways, it doesn't just get awkward, it gets complicated."

Sam stared at me for a beat. He leaned back in his chair, dragging a hand down his face like I'd just said the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard.

"Wow," he muttered. "That's what we're going with?"

I frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"That," he pointed at me with his fork, "was a whole speech just to avoid admitting the obvious."

I crossed my arms. "I did admit it. I said I like him."

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "And then you followed it up with a list of reasons why you should do absolutely nothing about it."

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

"Let me make sure I've got this right," he continued, sitting up straighter. "You like him. He likes you. You're both single. You're both not at all subtle about it—"

"We are subtle—"

"No, you're not," he cut in immediately. "It's painful to watch, actually."

I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. "Oh my God."