Different → S.Rogers | Wattys 2019 |

Longing

May, 1942

It was late around seven o clock, almost the end of my shift. There was no more customers in the diner, so I was only tidying up here and there making sure the diner is in tip top shape for the morning.

Any left over pie and pastries was boxed up and refrigerated to resell at half price the next day. It's something I came up with so no food would be wasted. Times like this you can't just waste food knowing there are people out there who are struggling and could use cheaper meals. Even myself, am struggling to make it, with just enough money for rent and food. I've been taking up as many extra shifts as possible, busting my bottom to make extra money. Which thanks to that, I don't get to spend as much time with Steve or Bucky for that matter.

He was supposed to come by today to have lunch with me but he didn't show. I guess something came up. Which is fine, he too has a life and a job. But I still can't help but feel disappointed that he hadn't showed up. It's been a few weeks since we've gotten to spend time together.

But as I said before, times are hard. We're all busy with our own personal matters, trying to stay alive and well.

"I'm heading home." I called out to my boss in the back.

"Have a good night Ava."

I hung up my apron and grabbed my bag, heading towards the exit of the restaurant. I could see the pink glow from the dusk skies showing through the windows. As I pushed open the door I noticed someone standing aside leaning against the wall of the building. It didn't take long for me to recognize the hair and the skinny figure.

Steve!

"Steve?!" I exclaimed, surprised to see him.

But should I be surprised though? he did say he would be here. He's just..late.

He turned around a smile across his face.

"Sorry I'm late, much much late." He apologized genuinely and I couldn't help but chuckle.

"It's alright, you're here now that's all that matters."

It's impossible to be mad at him, his sweetness always makes up for whatever it is he's done.

As I was about to ask him how his day I noticed a few scrapes on his cheek and a bruise underneath his eyes. My heart sunk as I realized why he had missed our lunch date.

I reached out and grazed my thumb lightly over his bruise, examining it.

"What happened?" I asked warily.

He let out a short sigh, moving my hand from his face.

"It's nothing Ava, I promise. It was just some jerk." He explained his usual explanation.

It was just some punk. Meaning, he accidentally provoked the fight and the punk swung first.

I eyed him warily for a moment, raising a brow. "You better not be picking fights Steve."

Knowing full well that he does.

He chuckled but leaned forward, placing a kiss on my temple. "I'm not."