Ch. 6 - The Truth

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This is a bit of a longer chapter.

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Steve stared back at himself through his bathroom mirror. Tilting his head to the side and running his fingers along his jawline, he noticed some hair growing in. The stubble gave him a near 5 o'clock shadow.

He sighed, getting a little tired from constantly shaving, but he got out the supplies for it anyway. Steve had to shave every other day because his beard kept growing in too fast.

In the 1920s, '30s, and '40s, the respectful and hygienic thing to do was to have a clean-shaven face. Steve rarely ever saw a bushy beard or even any amount of stubble on other men back then other than the occasional mustache. Now, there were many more males walking around with all kinds of facial hair, like Tony. Which he thought of as strange.

Washing his face with some warm water, he lathered shaving cream all along his jaw, chin, top of his neck, upper lip, and just below his cheekbones. He took his razor and began with his right cheek first. It left a blank trail on his skin through the white shaving cream as he went from his cheekbone to his jaw.

He rinsed the razor after each swipe, watching the clumps of shaving cream and hairs swirl down the drain. After the final swipe and rinse, he splashed some cold water on his face and then patted the spots he shaved dry with a towel.

He applied some fresh-smelling after-shave and looked back into the mirror, feeling slightly better with no facial hair. Presentable.

He felt ready to see her.

He didn't know what it was that made him want to look decent today, maybe it was the nerves. He had no idea how she would react to him being Captain America.

Would she be impressed? Intimidated? Upset? Starstruck? He could only hope she wouldn't react negatively.

He chose to drive his Harley Davidson that day, not wanting to run. He was fixing his wind-blown hair as he walked into the art studio.

When she came into class, his eyebrows rose and his back straightened. He took a deep breath, preparing for what he was about to say.

"Hi, Steve," she greeted as she sat next to him, laying all her art supplies on the desk in front of them.

"Hello, Ma'am."

She smiled. "You're allowed to use my name, you know."

"I know, Ma'am. It's just... more polite."

It was more than that. He respected her too much. Though he really liked how she said his name. No one other than Bruce said his first name, and it was refreshing to hear someone say it after such a long time of being called something along the lines of, "Captain" or "Cap".

A couple of seconds passed, and Steve finally gathered the courage to ask, "Would you... Are you free after class?"

"Are you asking me out?" she questioned back, eyes wide.

He glanced down at his hands, which were rubbing together anxiously. He didn't mean for it to sound that way, but the more he thought about it the more he liked the idea. "Well, I don't know if you're rationed or anything, but if you'd like to... yes."

"Rationed?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Realization came over her face. "Oh, no I don't. And... I'm free. I'd really like to go out with you."

Did she just agree to go out on a date with him or did he mishear her? Because it sure sounded like she said yes.

He couldn't control the smile that crept upon his face. "Great."

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