Captain America and Bucky Barnes Imagines

90. STEVE: Three Words

A/N:

Hey guys! Been a few days (more like 10, actually) since I updated. I am so sorry about the lack of updates. It's been a really hard week. I had a dear friend of mine from high school pass away last Thursday and the memorial service was today, so I promised myself I'd give myself a few days to gather my thoughts. Every time I tried to write this week I ended up just staring at the paper and wasting time. So, it's taken me a while tonight, but I manged to finish this chapter from my drafts. 

Bucky requests I've received will be coming! Hopefully next week is smoother for me and I'm in more of a creative mood. 

Thank you all for your patience and love. It's really kept me hanging onto a bit of positivity this week looking back at old comments and interactions between you sweeties. 

Happy late Valentines day, too! 

Winnie

Words: 3K

Three words.

It all started with three little words:

"One moment, please."

They'd been spoken without looking up from your computer. You'd been typing away at an email while you sat behind the front desk of your place of work. The person who'd walked up for help was quiet in response—giving you your time. When you finally looked up, your eyes met bright blue.

"Oh. Uh, hello," you manage to stutter out.

The man, tall and built like a dream, smiles shyly. "Hello." He gestures to your clipboard. "I have an appointment with Dr. White."

You nod and glance down to the printed words. "Name?"

"Uh, Steve." The man sticks his hands in his pockets and sways back and forth on his feet.

"We have three Steve's today," you reply with a laugh. "Last name, maybe?"

"Oh, oh, sure. Rogers, ma'am." He flushes pink for some reason as the words leave his mouth.

"Alright Mr. Rogers," you say, "Looks like Dr. White will be ready for you in about ten minutes. Is that alright?"

"Perfect." Steve Rogers smiles with a soft nod of his head. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Mhmm," you hum out a reply. Your eyes go back to your Mac screen until you're sure he's walking away. On his journey back to the lobby couch your eyes dart up to watch him leave. God, it's not fair for a man to have an ass like that! He's positively delicious. You mentally remind yourself to check his hand for a wedding ring the next time he comes up. Wait, is the no-dating-patients rule a thing if you're only the therapist's assistant? Who cares?! You'd break any rules to take that man to bed...

A little message pops up on your screen.

"Dr. White is ready for you, Mr. Rogers." You stand up and smooth out your skirt. Steve, who has just sat back down, rises again. He comes to the side of your desk and waits for you to lead him down the hall.

"Please, call me Steve." Those beautiful baby blues are wrinkled slightly with smile lines.

Pausing outside of the doctor's doors, you reply, "Alright, Steve. You can go in." You pop open the door and Steve nods his gratitude—not missing the chance to lightly touch your hand with his as he takes the door from your hold.

You thought that would probably be the end of it. But luck would have it that Steve Rogers would come back to the office: twice a week, to be exact. It takes three weeks and three more little words to change everything.