Distressed // Steve Rogers

10 - Repeated

Steve smiled as Talia dropped onto the couch beside him. Her shoulder brushed against his as she leant forward, peeking at the artwork he sat drawing; sketches of skylines and scenery and silhouettes in the moonlight. The turn of his lip, pulling up at one corner as he tried to sneak glances at her made her smile more and she gently took the sketch book from his hands.

She looked questioningly at him as she waited, not wanting to intrude if he didn't want her to and he nodded gently before leaning back against the cushions and watching her intently.

The beautiful red of her hair swept over her shoulder and cascaded down her back as she leant over the pages, her eyes soaking in every scratch of pencil on the page, every angle, every press, every shade. The softest curls framed her face, small tendrils of fire that flickered against her skin. Her cheeks were flush with energy and her eyes danced over the pages she looked at. Talia chewed the corner of her lip when she concentrated and Steve longed to lean in, take her chin in his fingers and kiss her gently. He wanted to feel the familiar flames of hushed whispers and stolen caresses. Watching her as she smiled to herself and ran her fingers over his work he just wanted her.

"So." She spoke with a smile as she closed the sketch book and placed it on the coffee table. "I learned something this morning."

"Oh yeah?" He grinned as she tucked her legs up on the couch and leant back against the couch cushions, her side pressed lightly against his. "And what exactly did you learn Runaway?"

She smiled as she looked over to him and took his hand in her own, tracing patterns across his palm, leaving tiny pictures under his skin like a secret code that only she could use and decipher, as she contemplated everything Bucky had told her and all the things she would now have to uncover.

"Mystery Man was not my first nickname for you."

Laughing lightly, Steve's eyes trailed where her fingers moved. She glanced up at him, a shy smile skating over her lips, before dropping her eyes back to his hands. The one she held in hers was steady and warm. Small ice rivers ran across the palm, unnoticeable to most, and she traced each scar with care and tenderness. Stealing glances up at him she breathed in everything that he was. She was drawn into the way that his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and the way his head would roll slightly to the left when he laughed.

His voice was soft and calming when he spoke to her, so low it was almost a whisper and Talia found herself moving closer to him with every syllable uttered.

"No," he sighed, "it was not."

She placed her palm flat against his, marvelling at the simple pleasure of his skin against hers and amused by the way his hand could encase hers entirely if he wished to close it.

"Okay, so now I have a question." She drew her nails up and along his fingers, smiling as he caught hers before she had a chance to remove contact.

"You can ask me anything," he stated, pulling her hand towards him this time and brushing soft touches over her knuckles.

"Why Ice-pop?" Talia grinned as he rolled his eyes. "I mean Bucky explained the whole frozen in ice thing to me, but surely it irritated you?"

Steve smiled to himself as he wrapped his hand around hers, their fingers entwining, and he thought back on their first encounter.

*

"So, you're Nat's sister?"

His eyes had run the length of her as she shifted beneath his gaze, as she desperately sought comfort. She was petite; smaller than Natasha and yet she had exuded strength and stubbornness even when weak from surgery.