The Only Hope | Captain America

Chapter Five : Spilled Hot Chocolate

 As they continued to walk around the city, Grace continued to tell Steve about herself. She told him about her constant pleads to go the beach every ten minutes. Steve was a very quiet man, but very polite. He listened to her ramblings and stories but never spoke of his. Grace felt bad for her short knowledge of the city. She was supposed to give him a tour and ended up spilling an "all about me" session. A cool breeze whips through her bare neck and her exposed thighs. She had sudden crave for Starbucks at the moment before her stomach let out a growl.

 "Hungry?" Steve asked.

 Grace smiled brightly, "Yeah. Haven't eaten since breakfast."

 He nodded in response before looking out in the city again. From his eyes, he looked like he didn't know the city well, as if it was some foreign country he had never been to. Grace knew some parts of the city, even only being two weeks new to the place. Due to her job, she was able to go to some parts of the city. Finally, after constant searches, she had spotted a Starbucks near them. The smell of coffee aroma filled her senses as she walked into the store. Steve followed behind her, continuing to look around the café.

 "Steve, want anything?"

 "No, I'm fine. Thank you, Ma'am." He replied politely.

 The cashier raised her brow in confusion and leaned in close.

 "Quite a gentleman, is he yours?"

 "Oh, no. I just met him. Can I get a regular hot chocolate in a regular cup?"

 The cashier nodded in response and ringed in her order. Grace walked back to Steve and chuckled at the way he stared at the woman who was making her drink. He seemed fascinated with the way the machines worked in the place.

 "What did you order Ma'am?"

 "Please, Steve, call me Grace. Ma'am makes me sound old."

 He laughed at her comment, "Alright, Grace."

 "Much better."

 She picked up her hot chocolate and let the warmth of the cup cool her frozen hands. Outside, there was an empty table fit for two people. Something in her urged her to ask Steve about himself. In her mind, Steve looked very familiar to her. As they sat down in the chairs, Grace took a sip of hot chocolate. She smiled in satisfaction  as she felt the chocolate flavor melt in her tongue.  Many questions were running through her mind about Steve. Where was he from? Why does he look so lost? Why does he look so familiar?

 "So, Uhm. Steve, you're from Brooklyn right?" Grace questioned.

 He nodded, "Born and raised. I was a sick boy, born with many troubles."

 "Oh, rough childhood?"

 "Yup. I bet you I can name the many places I've gotten beaten up in."

 "Whoa."

 Grace was speechless. Here she was, sitting with a man twice her size, and he's telling her the places he'd been beaten up in? She looked over at Steve again, scanning his remarkably tall and built muscular figure. She noticed how his abs stood out against his white shirt and how large his arms were. Soon knowing Steve was following her gaze, she raised her hands in embarrassment to shield herself.

 "Oh my gosh, I'm-I'm sorry." She stuttered.

 Steve smiled shyly, "Its fine."

 "What's your workout drill? I mean, I wouldn't mind getting lessons from you."

 He chuckled nervously before replying, "I don't do any of that... You see, have you heard of the story of Captain America?"

 Captain America? She remembered her uncle constant stories about him. He even had the trading cards and all the comics. Those trading cards were vintage and her uncle was quite proud of his collection. But why would Steve bring up the story of Captain America? She thought of the story of how he was created. The sickly Brooklyn boy who was unfit for war, instead because of his good moral standards, he was accepted into a project. Thus, Captain America was born!