Into the Snow || A Captain America Love Story

32

     I wake up with my bed cold. Steve left before I went to bed, being a gentleman and not wanting to keep me awake any longer. I wish that he had stayed, but I understand why he didn't - we aren't that far in our relationship to sleep with each other, and last night doesn't count.
     I rub my eyes and sit up from my pillow. I take in my surroundings: my bed against a wall and on the opposite side of the room, tucked in a hallway, is the bathroom door and the door to leave. I jump out of bed and brush my teeth. When I come back into my room, the time is 7:13. I change into a black tank top and black athletic pants that stop at my knee. I snatch a pair of black sneakers and slip them onto my feet. The early morning sunlight pours through my windows, shining onto me. I block my eyes and leave my room, cracking the door open behind me.
     I go to the kitchen and grab a water bottle from the cupboards. As I fill it, I listen to the cars and people outside on the streets of New York. Once the bottle is full, I leave the floor. A few floors down is a training area that Fury installed for us. The elevator doors open, revealing the room. There is a yellow tint to everything: the floor, walls, even the people inside. I see an occupied punching bag, and I peek around to see the person.
     The man wears a white S.H.I.E.L.D. shirt and tan pants. His eyes are focused on the bag, but also on something else. The blonde man gives one more punch, and the bag comes down to the floor. He stares at the bag that lays on the floor, his chest rising and falling quickly.
     "You should wear the gloves, you know." I say to Steve, examining the white wrap that goes around his knuckles.
     Steve snaps his head to me, looking at me with startled eyes. "Oh, it's you," he mumbles.
     "Just me?" I ask, walking toward him.
     He turns his head in the other direction, feeling ashamed.
     "Still thinking about yesterday?" I coo.
     "Y-Yeah," he says.
     "You're being too hard on yourself," I say softly, taking his hand and showing him his bloody knuckles.
     "I know," he whispers. "I know."
     "S-Steve," I stammer. "I'm really starting to worry about you. What happened yesterday, it wasn't you. That agent did something to brainwash you and told you to do one thing. I know, it hurts, I would be hurting if I was going to do the same to you. But you can't keep thinking that. What matters is what happened after-"
     Steve puts his hands on either side of my face, and my blabbering comes to a close. I close my eyes and my hands crawl up his neck. His soft lips tell me to kiss back, which I do. He pulls back, his lower lip brushing mine. I smile when he does, wanting me to be yearning for more.
     "I'm fine," he breathes. "Just a little shaken up."
     "You better be telling me the truth," I mutter.
     "Why would I ever lie to you?"
     "I-I don't know,"
     He grins. "Exactly."
     "And since when was Captain Rogers willing to make the first move?" I snort.
     Steve laughs. "I guess I've been around the Starks longer than I need to be."
     I roll my eyes and lightly punch his shoulder. "I've been around Tony my whole life. He's been my legal guardian for almost as long as I can remember."
     "That explains a lot,"
     I gasp and he crinkles his nose at me, grinning.
     "Hey, we're all crazy," Steve says. "And he might be annoying as I'll get out, but he's done well."
     "Meaning?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
     "You didn't turn out the way that everyone would imagine."
     "Is that a compliment?"
     "I really have no idea,"
     "You aren't the way that every girl dreams of."
     "And is that a compliment?"
     "To me it is," I grin. "But seriously, I've seen female S.H.I.E.L.D. agents having their little conversations about how they imagine you."
     His cheeks flush. "And?"
     "They say that you are a loyal, strong, loving, old-fashioned gentleman who is every lady's dream."
     "Well, those dreams are going to be crushed when they see us together."
     "They'll probably be sobbing in their bedrooms with mascara running down their faces and eating a pint of ice cream saying how I 'don't deserve him.'"
     "That sucks for them." Steve says, staring deeply into my eyes.