21 • James' Letter

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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: JAMES' LETTER

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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: JAMES' LETTER

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Two days later, the snowstorm was still raging over the entire south of England, Steve and Angel were sitting in the kitchen, their hands wrapped around hot mugs of cocoa. The night had been cozy and peaceful, just them cuddling underneath their shared blanket, letting their fingertips graze the other's skin ever so gently. Angel almost began to forget the fact that she was still here instead of with her beloved family.

In the middle of the small table were the remains of their breakfast, simple bread with some jelly and cheese, and Angel couldn't help but notice that ever since he'd stopped eating, Steve had become rather fidgety. His fingers twisted the mug in his hand restlessly, and he didn't seem to be able to sit still as if he was extremely nervous. After some time, the young brunette decided to say something for she was curious what could make this man so tense.

"Steve," she eventually let out, getting his attention. His baby blue eyes jolted up to her face as if she'd ripped him out of his deepest thoughts. Angel bit her bottom lip before continuing.

"Are you okay? You're... You seem a little off today."

Steve inhaled deeply, one hand leaving his mug and combing through his messy hair that hung into his face in dark blond strands.

"Yes, Angel, don't worry about it," he sighed, but the young woman heard in his voice that there surely was something to worry about.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?"

A soft, faint smile emerged on his face, his eyes softened as he gazed at her. Angel tried to find something in his expression that could give her a hint of what was wrong. Was it about her? She couldn't help but overthink this question that was now pondering inside of her mind.

"It's... not about me, is it?"

Steve arched a brow, shaking his head instantly as if he couldn't believe she'd actually asked that question. The woman took a swig of cocoa and briefly glared out the frosted window next to her. Ice crystals covered most of the glass, and the outside was blurred into a grey and white mess of snow and wind. She shuddered.

"Okay, Angel," Steve got her attention back, clearing his throat in preparation to speak.

"Do you... Do you remember the letter I sent to my... best friend, back in the States?"

Of course she remembered. The guy that was the only human being Steve ever was willing to draw. The guy who was his best friend for years. Unfortunately, that's all she knew about this mysterious man. That, and the fact that for some reason, James was not allowed to leave the country. Instead of answering Steve, she merely nodded, to which he huffed and took a sip of hot chocolate before continuing.

"He replied."

Angel froze, her lips parted in surprise while slightly curling up.

"I told you he'd get the letter, Steve," she beamed, not able to contain the happy relief that the thing that had upset the man was a rather joyful one. But when Steve didn't smile back, his lips still in the usual thin line peeking out of his stubble, the young woman's smile faded instantly.

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