After multiple run-ins with death and many shocking self-discoveries in the course of a few months, all America Evans wants to do is hide away in Washington with Steve until she finds out who she really is. But life as an Avenger doesn't allow for a...
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AMERICA'S POV
"Any fours?"
"Go fish." I sigh and take a new card from the pile. I thought Go Fish was supposed to be a game of chance, but I might just be really bad at it. "Your turn."
"Okay, um... any sixes?" Groaning, I hand two over to a triumphant Steve, who creates another set. He's beating me and it's not even close.
"How are you so good at this?" I ask, exasperated.
"You just have to concentrate. See, right now, when you have your hands like that, I can see your entire deck." My hands whip up to hide my cards, and he laughs.
I shrug as I sort my cards. "Guess I'm just a little distracted with tomorrow."
Steve senses my nerves and reaches a hand out to me. "It's going to be perfect no matter what happens, doll. It's us, right? Everyone already knows we love each other. Tomorrow just puts it on a piece of paper." I've been freaking out about everything that could go wrong for the last week, and I probably wasn't great company through all that. Someone knocks softly on the door. "You stay, I'll get it."
When he opens the door, I hear muffled voices and Steve steps out into the hallway. Next thing I know, there's a muffled "hey!" and a thundering of multiple footsteps. I run over to the door and open it, but he's gone. The only thing in the hallway is a little piece of paper on the floor, which I bend down to read.
Don't worry, we'll have your senior citizen back in time for tomorrow. Probably.
-You Know Who I Am, The Best Man, The Flash, and Clint
Everyone signed their own 'name.' Rolling my eyes, I take the paper and head back into my room to clean up the cards. Since the girls are taking me out tonight, I should have suspected the guys would do something for Steve. And Clint flew in this afternoon, so the gang is all here.
The clock reads five-thirty, which means I have about a half an hour until we leave. Where, I'm not exactly sure, but I'm supposed to look cute. That's the only warning I got. At least I got a warning. I can only imagine what the guys are doing tonight.
Poor Steve.
Skimming through my closet, I pull out a black fitted turtleneck, jean skirt, and knee-high black suede boots. My hair gets pulled into a high curly ponytail and I apply makeup slightly darker than usual. It is my bachelorette party, after all. Time to have some fun on my last single night.
