Steve Rogers/Captain America One Shots

Matters of the Heart

Moonlight floated delicately in through that of the thin lacey drapes, that tried their best to cover the tall windows, and the light bathed the warm wooden floors in a pale white hue. The small but comforting bedroom, was instantly brightened by the natural nightlight the deep indigo sky provided. And as Steve Rogers's soft footsteps carefully carried him further into the dimly lit room, he watched as the pale spotlight fell across the wide bed against the far wall. Shadows still danced across the dark walls and night still lingered in every corner, but the moonlight was just enough for Steve to make out the outline of a body that laid motionless beneath a mess of crumpled sheets. The pale blue sheets clung to her skin as though another set of clothes she wore, and they were thin enough that he could faintly make out the pads of her toes, that lay close to the bottom of the mattress. 

As Steve continued to step further into the warm and familiar room, he prayed silently that he wouldn't find a floorboard beneath his careful footing, that would decide to release a creak into the deeply silent atmosphere around him. Because he feared any sound would break through this moment, and shatter the peace that had managed to fill the bedroom. He even struggled to breathe, for he feared that the soft sound would be enough to drag the beautiful body filling the bed from her slumber.

But the fear didn't stop him from growing closer to the figure draped in soft cotton sheets, dreaming away in the middle of the lonely night. He continued forward cautiously but with such longing, that drove his every movement, to be closer to her. And he didn't pause until he reached the very edge of the window. It was then that Steve's bare feet came to a stop, as he gently leaned back against the smooth window pane, and stared mesmerized by the moonlit beauty that lay in the bed facing him. He was inches from the bed, and yet he could see her as clear as though he laid right beside her. For the image of her was forever burned into his memory, and being this close to her after so much time away, only enhanced the features he had missed waking up to everyday. 

The darkness of the bedroom shadowed her naturally rosy cheeks and softened the glow of her pale skin, but it wasn't enough to drain any of the beauty from her face. No amount of darkness could wash her out, she would always shine bright like a star in the darkest night sky. Steve's north star... he would think from time to time, guiding him home again and again. 

It took everything in his body not to take those last final steps, and climb softly into the bed beside her. For it had been so long since he'd last wrapped his strong arms around her petite frame, and cradled her close against him. But something kept him planted where he stood by the window. Something in him that was entranced by this rare moment to truly take a look at her, without fear of getting caught for his wandering eyes. A moment where he could watch her simply be, and something about it stalled Steve's urge to rest beside her in the bed they shared. 

Her light sea blue eyes were shut, but even as the color was restricted from his view, Steve was still able to see her soft eyelashes flutter against her cheekbones. The darkness almost swallowed up the sight, but the generous moonlight highlighted the featherlike lashes, and he watched as they fluttered like butterfly wings against her supple skin. She was dreaming, and the sight made Steve smile softly to himself.

But even as the sight of her warmed his heart, the smile that had found it's way to his lips didn't last long. For the dream he watched her eyes dance to and her body slumber through, quickly shifted. And the thin lips that he had pictured in his memory trembled softly, before opening a fraction, and allowed a heartbreaking cry to fall from them.

Steve felt his heart sink at the sound of her voice crying out his name, and his eyebrows raised as the breath he was breathing suddenly dissipated from his lungs. She wasn't awake, and yet she cried for him. He could hear the pain and the longing in the single syllable of his name, and it stunned him. For he had no idea this was what plagued her at night. He knew she had nightmares every once and a while, because he was there with open arms ready to comfort her back into a gentler slumber. But hearing his name fall from her lips with such heart-retching suffering, it made him question how often she cried for him at night. Did she cry herself to sleep at his absence? Were her dreams so vivid that they made her fear even closing her eyes the next night? Was she calling out his name because she couldn't save him in her dreams... or was it because she needed him to in some way save her from the hell her mind was trapped in?