The Choice (Steve Rodgers x Reader)

Fifty Three

AN: This book has come so far. Like I'll be honest, at a certain point I started winging this book but it just keeps on going doesn't it?
Anyway, like always, I'm so glad to see everyone loving this book so much and I'm sorry I don't update that often. Anyways enjoy this chapter :)

There was a dirty spot on the sink. It looked like it had been burnt with something, someone placing a hot pan on it maybe? You didn't know. You just knew it bothered you.
Cleaning was your way of soothing your troubles away, just like ironing out wrinkles in a shirt. Maybe you should do the ironing next.
But this spot wasn't going away, no matter how hard you scrubbed and scratched at it.
The sound of the brush screeching back and forward became an almost white noise to you at this point, not distracting you from the thoughts that plagued your mind. Why wasn't it going away? Why wasn't this mark not budging?
Why had you slept with Steve?
You guessed that's really what made you frustrated. The thoughts were the real marks that weren't budging. You felt so guilty. He looked so crushed after, so let down. Though you suppose he wouldn't be entirely excited from the events.

Three days earlier, you had held Steve against you, still recovering from your interaction, pulling him incredibly close and letting the reality of what had happened sink in.
You had let out a heavy sigh, trembling breath tumbling past your swollen lips as you lay your head on his shoulder. You wanted to cry, but you were all cried out at this point, and you doubted that it would make Steve completely secure in his agreement to this.
Truth is, you were ecstatic to be that close to him, after all this, after all the fighting and distance. But your heart ached in your chest. You weren't ready to let him back in. You didn't want to let him off the hook after all the time he spent punishing you. And for what? To fuck you in the men's bathroom of a bar neither of you could remember the name of? To both feel a huge sense of dread because you knew the second you walked out that door that everything would change, in one way or another.
Maybe you should have just let that woman flirt with him. Let him make a decision. Not confuse him and risk a third surprise pregnancy that would be an extreme mess; the disgrace of a topping to a destroyed cake.
You pulled away, hopping down onto the floor and steadying yourself against him. Slowly, you looked up at Steve and tried for a smile, but he already knew. He could read you better than anyone else. He knew you saw this as a mistake, as another event to add to the long list of bad events.
"Steve." You whispered, not knowing what else to say. It just sounded nice to say. It always did.
He smiled sadly, lifting a hand to lay on you arm. "It's alright. I wasn't exactly expecting a white wedding as soon as it was over." He looked down at his hand and shook his head. Looking back up, his smile is a little happier. "I enjoyed it though."
You chuckle slightly. "Me too." You mumble, watching his features slowly morph back into neutrality. "I'll see you around." You add, lifting yourself onto your toes and kissing his cheek, lingering slightly before standing normally.
You run quickly and walk out the door, pulling your dress down fully and looking around to see if anyone had seen.
You were in the clear, but if anyone had gone back into that room, it would've been obvious something happened. It would be obvious because Steve had leant against the wall and tried to cover his eyes to stop the tears. He didn't know what would come of this, he didn't know if it would help or hinder you reuniting. But he knew something for sure. He deserved this.

Shoulders slumping, you throw your sponge down into the bowl and place your hands on the counter, using them to lean against it.
You definitely weren't pregnant, that was clear when your period started this morning. At least that was something.
But god, this damn mark. It made you grit your teeth. Steve was meant to be arriving to take the kids out in 20 minutes and if this mark was still here by then it would make everything so much worse.
Of course, it wasn't so much about the sink.

However, it was surprisingly normal when he arrived. He greeted you with a smile, hugged Dot tightly and conversed with you about Joey and everything in his pram. And he left with a chipper attitude and a seven year old holding onto his jacket.
But then he came back.

It was around seven o clock. Joey was fast asleep in his pram and Dot was very close to falling dozing off. The two of you had jumped into action as soon as he stepped in the door, each taking a child and putting them to bed. You quickly lay Joey in his cot and made sure he'd stay asleep, and Steve had made a very short bedtime story up to Dot.
And eventually, you both met in the kitchen.
It was deadly silent as you both looked at each other. It seemed the awkwardness had settled in.
"Tea?" You offer quietly, hoping to busy yourself.
He shakes his head politely. "No thank you." He smiles slightly.
You nod and look around, but inevitably, your eyes land back on him and God it does so much to you. The messy hair, the soft smile, the classic leather jacket. Christ, you just wanted to kiss him and make all of this go away. But it wasn't that easy.
It was hard for Steve too. Domestic life looked so good on you. The clothing's of comfort that consisted of leggings and his jumper. Maybe you thought he wouldn't notice but he did. Though you had worn it so much that you might've thought it was yours now. But it suited you more, especially when you looked like this, hair thrown back, slippers on and chipped nail polish. He thought you looked beautiful in any outfit, but it's ones like these that he could really just appreciate you for you.
It seemed you were both fighting the urge to gravitate to the other, and in the end it was too strong. Steve clearers his throat and decided it was time to leave.
"Thanks for today." He muttered.
You stuttered a reply. "No, thank you. I got to clean without disruption. Even read part of my book." You point out.
Steve let out a breath of a laugh through his nose and shook his head. "See you, Y/N." He says before turning around and walking away.
You watch him in complete yearning-full agony. "Bye Steve." You whisper, but the door closes seconds later and he doesn't hear you.