" so many assume. so little know "
.
.
.
in which a bad mouthed agent is assigned to help the walking talking patriarchal symbol of what is right and what is wrong. and in the process of it all, learns how much she needed the desk duty
BOOK ONE | St...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
WASHINGTON D.C. america
____________________________
CORTEZ
WE STAYED in the mental hospital for a few more hours. I sat on the floor by my mother's chair and told her about how I've been since I last saw her; telling her of my training and how SHIELD has been. I told her of Fury and Natasha Romanoff.
Steve stayed mostly quiet, but would chime in with a sarcastic joke when I would lightly tease him. I wasn't sure how he could possibly have enjoyed himself during the visit, and I did regret asking him to come because of that fact, but he didn't say anything. He sat with a smile on that damn face and continued to leave me dazed and confused.
All because he said one nice thing? Was I that deprived of compliments that I allowed a basic one to get under my skin? And why, all of a sudden, did I find his smile charming instead of mediocre at best?
All of these were questions I didn't want to have. And I definitely didn't want to have the answers to them.
Still, after I kissed my mother goodbye and told her I would visit soon, I felt odd walking out of the hospital with him. The day was growing old and the sun was beginning to set; despite the time only half past four.
"Thank you," I finally said when we got into the car. "For coming with me and for acting so normal about it."
"There's nothing strange about it. I just wish I could have meet her before."
"You would have liked her. She was a lot more bearable than I am." I turned the car on and left the hospital.
"More bearable, huh?"
I smiled softly and turned the heat to a higher setting. "Yes. She was a fighter, true, and she was more stubborn than a mule. But I have something she doesn't have."
"And what's that?"
"Puerto Rican blood. You couldn't tell my father anything."
"I can't tell you anything either."
"Shut up, yes you can." I joked and he laughed. My stomach flipped at the sound and I wanted to kill myself on the spot. I would not allow this to happen, no.
"So what are we going to do for the rest of your birthday?"
"We?" I asked and raised an eyebrow. "There are no we plans?" Did I even want to spend the rest of my birthday with him? No. Yes. Maybe. I hate this.