𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝑹𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔 || 𝟏𝟖+
❝I'm convinced that you are heaven in a person, Angel.❞
The one where a tired Steve Rogers escapes his past and ends up finding the love of his life during a very snowy Christmas time in London, UK.
「mcu; alternate...
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CHAPTER FIVE: PEPPERMINT TEA
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At eight p.m. sharp, the doorbell rang and ripped Angel out of her still endlessly spinning thoughts. With her tea mug in hand, she shuffled to the door and buzzed the visitor in. She leaned in the doorframe, waiting for Steve to appear in her sight. When he did, he seemed unusually fidgety and restless. His face was still lacking any emotions though, and Angel cocked her head to the side upon the sight of him. He was wearing the same dark jeans as he had earlier, his coat was now unbuttoned, revealing a cream sweater, cable-knit. His shoes were still covered in muddy snow.
"Hello," Angel said as casually as she possibly could, "Leave your shoes in the hall."
She knew that she was unusually short-spoken, but she also knew that if she talked too much, she would give away just how confused and nervous she was about his visit.
She'd never had a guest in her little apartment before. Despite having lived in London for over two years, she'd never found a friend to invite. Of course, she'd found people to hang out with during the free blocks on campus, but no one was ever good enough of a friend to her to make her invite them back to her place.
The comfortable warmth now also enveloped her guest, and he took his coat off and hang it on the basically empty coat rack.
"Nice hat," he said as the first thing since she'd opened the door for him. He motioned to the grey hat he had given to her. It was neatly displayed on the hallway dresser, next to some old newspapers and a sage green analog clock.
"Thanks. A grumpy stranger gave it to me and won't take it back," Angel countered jokingly. She always slipped to a rather snippy version of herself whenever she found herself nervous and jittery. Which she was at that moment.
Steve let out a huff and pushed his slightly long hair back with one stroke of his left hand. He glared around, inspecting the place. Angel suddenly felt very exposed as she walked into the small kitchen area. He followed her with slow steps.
"Tea?" she asked, her voice unnecessarily breaking while she let out that short word. He looked over to her, his eyes greyer and darker than they usually appeared, and nodded with the quick tilt of his chin.
"You're not really talking for the fact that you came here to talk," she commented while getting out two mugs.
He remained silent and simply shrugged when he was sure she was looking over to him. Angel shook her head in disbelief and began to boil the water in the vintage kettle on her stove.
"What kind of tea do you like?" she asked over her shoulder while she got the little wooden box out of the cabinet above her head. It held all teabags she currently had at home.
A grunt indicated he wasn't sure. Or at least that's what Angel interpreted it to be. She turned around, only to find her guest staring at her with tired eyes. The dark circles under them seemed even more purple than they usually had. Angel wondered how his appearance could've changed so drastically in the few hours that had passed since her lunch break.
