Stay ➣Romanogers

Chapter 4: You and Me

It's Friday before she sees Steve again.

Not that she's counting the days. Not at all. And not that she's looking for him. Their paths simply never cross. She leaves for work every morning that week and glances down the hallway of their building, but he's never there. The others are. The Langs in 4D, who introduced themselves a couple days ago. They seem very nice, and their daughter's precocious and adorable. And the blond beefcake in 4C. Nat can see right away why Maria called him that. Steve clearly works out; he's very muscular and fit despite his limp (and whatever other issues he's hiding). But compared to Thor? Even he's small. And Thor's a really weird name, even for a nickname. Still, the guy is sweet and charming, even if he dresses a bit like a bum.

So Nat sees them all every day, exchanging pleasantries and small talk when they pass each other before and after work. She never sees Steve, though. The door to 4A is always firmly shut, no matter how many times she surreptitiously looks there to check. Is he home? Is he there? It seems almost forbidden, and she has to quell the inclination to find out.

And it's not just that. Liho has been surprisingly well behaved. She hasn't escaped again, though Nat secretly arrives home every evening hoping to find her missing just to have an excuse to knock on 4A. The super hasn't come by to fix the vent, but Liho is apparently exercising an annoying amount of restraint despite the fact Nat's only stuffed more towels in to block it. Cats never do what you want them to.

It's also been very quiet. She hasn't heard Steve, and she's been listening. Every night she's listened. She feels bad about it; it's eavesdropping at the very least, snooping and invading his privacy in a sense at the worst. She justifies it to herself. It's not like she can not hear anything that's happening with the shared wall and the vent practically acting as a conduit from his bedroom to hers. Furthermore, and this is really getting ahead of herself, she feels like it's her responsibility to listen. She still doesn't know anything much about him, not what happened to him or why he's such a recluse, but it's pretty obvious something really bad did. And it's pretty obvious he's alone. There was no sign of anyone else living with him, not a girlfriend or otherwise. She hasn't seen anyone other than Thor and a handsome African American guy occasionally coming around his apartment, but they always have this look on their faces that's close to unabashed worry and complete reluctance to walk away. It may very well be that she's closest to Steve there is right now, and she's really getting ahead of herself with that, but if he's alone and he's suffering... That means she's responsible for him.

For Steve. For this... beautiful, broken guy she just can't stop thinking about.

He's been alright, though. If he's had more nightmares, they've been very quiet, not like that first one at all. She can't deny she's curious, and it's so wrong on so many levels. She knows she needs to be focused on her own issues. She's still queasy about having a gun in her apartment. She's still worried about every creak in this new place (though not quite so much as she was). She's still checking over her shoulder every time she's walking down the street. Thinking about him is a nice distraction. Worrying about him is an escape, one which she's unwittingly and eagerly taken. She wants to know more about him, why he had that violent dream, why he's got that little limp, what those scars are from. It feels inappropriate to be wondering about it even in the privacy of her own thoughts, but she's never met anyone like him before.

And she wants to sing for him again. Though they never acknowledged it during that brief moment last week, she knows he heard her. She knows he was thinking about it. He's easy to read, a little flustered and desperate but so earnest in a way. Somehow, despite whatever hell he's lived and is still struggling to overcome, he seems innocent and sweet to her. Strong but cracked. Independent but vulnerable, too. She's almost positive after being in his apartment that the attraction goes both ways. And it's stupid – so goddamn stupid – but she's excited by that. Maria was right; she can't deal with a relationship now. The one she's coming from? Even a couple years removed isn't enough to quiet her memories. It was traumatic to say the least, and she knows she's not ready to be with anyone. Secretly she's afraid she never will be again.