✪ American Noise ✪ [Captain America]

Chapter 10: Liz VII

Liz stirred somewhere in the realm between consciousness and dreaming, vaguely aware of a slight chill grazing an exposed ankle. In her haze, Liz could not find it in herself to care enough to try and cover it, too lethargic to move. She was wrapped in a blanket anyway and was nestled into something warm. She resolved to ignore the light that was piercing her closed eyelids, determined to sleep in for once on the one day a week she took off for herself. Liz turned her face to a position that was less intrusive to her slumber. She began to doze off again to the faint scent of soap, the low thump of a slow and steady drum lulling her back to sleep.

What could have been hours or only moments later, Liz felt herself being pulled back to the waking world when she felt her pillow shift beneath her. She heard the slow drum begin to quicken as the warm, firm pillow rose and fell like it had started to breathe heavily. What the—, Liz wondered as she opened her eyes and bolted upright. Something heavy fell off her as she did this, her own heart about to beat out of her chest as a panic set in. It felt like an arm, though Liz could not be sure. Her glasses had fallen off as well sometime during her sleep and the world was currently a bright blur.

She felt the figure next to her move off the couch suddenly, "Liz! I'm sorry— I—"

"Steve?" Liz interrupted, looking toward him blindly; a dark blur silhouetted against the sun streaming in from the windows. She knew his voice but could not make out his features without her glasses. She began to relax.

"Yes? Oh," Steve's voice sounded confused for a moment. Then Liz heard him rummaging briefly before she felt him take one of her hands, gently placing the frames in it. She felt him pull away.

Liz quickly put on her glasses and looked at him. Steve stood a few steps away from her with his hands on his hips, looking at nothing in particular on the coffee table between them. "Good morning," Liz greeted with a sleepy smile.

Steve looked at her, "Good morning," a half-smile played on his lips. There was a noticeable pink hue on his face. Steve's blonde hair was in disarray, and his eyes were a darker shade of blue than usual.

How can he look so perfect after literally just waking up? It's not fair... Liz thought to herself quickly, trying to tame her own bedhead that she knew would be taking on a life of its own.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep..." Steve apologized again after a moment of silence, starting to pace nervously.

"It's okay. I fell asleep, too," Liz offered with a smile. When Steve did not look at her, Liz began to grow anxious. "You okay?" She asked, "You look like you've never spent the night with anyone before," Liz nervously blurted in an attempt to defuse tension. We're friends, right? We can joke about that stuff, right? Liz hoped. Steve stopped in his tracks and looked at Liz with a horrified look, his face growing from a slight pink to a deepening fuchsia quite quickly. Wrong... Liz proceeded to colorfully curse herself internally.

"I, um—" Steve began to stutter but stopped to clear his throat as he stumbled for a response.

"I was just joking!" Liz interrupted, her voice jumpy, "Are you hungry? Do you want breakfast?" Liz asked as she jumped up from the couch and scampered to the kitchen in a rapid attempt to change the subject. This was one of those life lessons she had learned from her beloved Gran. Always offer a guest food to make them feel comfortable. That and the way to a man's heart is through his stomach... Liz mused, though in this particular case, it also served as a means to escape the awkwardness that had just manifested in her living room. Steve followed and stood on the threshold of the kitchen. Liz used the refrigerator door as a shield between them while she reviewed her breakfast options, "I'm out of eggs..."