Romanogers one-shots

I missed you

i cant express how much i hate this one-shot lol


He's been gone for too long.

I don't like missing him. Love is for children, after all. But I still miss his presence in the routine I've become used to. He'll always leave, and I will too. There will be missions, always missions, a diplomatic disaster of the sudden reappearance of a threat. Sometimes the memories will be too strong, and I will run. Run to escape from myself. Run to clear my ledger. I used to have no attachments. I would run and leave a life behind. No emotions would touch me, and I would scorn those who missed me. I was a murderer, after all. Am a murderer. My ledger will never be clean. But now I have him.

He'll always be there now, with that look in those blue eyes. That look of love, and of understanding. He'll be there when I wake up screaming. He'll take care of me when I don't want to take care of myself. He gives me a reason to stay. To trust. Shaking the thoughts from my head, I walk over to inspect the contents of the fridge. As I go, I glance at my surroundings and remember when we first moved in. It was empty and tiny, just white walls and wooden floors. But it's safe, and it's ours. It is still simple, but now I can look at the couches, and the kitchen and remember moments that we had. Simple ones, but something I cherish nonetheless. That's what a home is, after all. Before this, I've never really had a home. My goal was always survival. But I watched Steve talk about his mother's home, and saw the look in his eyes. That was something I wanted. With him.

I squinted at the contents of the fridge. There was no use reminiscing. Steve would not be back for another month, and in the meantime, I would do what I did best. Survive. My thoughts of dinner were interrupted by the key in the apartment door. Hand on gun (you can never be too careful, even if your apartment is under constant SHIELD surveillance) I turned to find Steve leaning in the doorway, pizza box in hand. There are dark circles under his eyes, and a bruise is forming on his cheek. His coat hides the inevitable wounds, but his mouth is shaped in that trademark, loving smile that sends an ache through my heart every time.

"I brought dinner."

I run to him as he slides the box onto the bench and reaches for me. We collide in the middle of the living room. His arms are strong around me and I bury my head in his chest, threading my fingers through his hair. He pulls my face to his, his fingers under my chin so I am staring into his big blue eyes.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too."