WE FACE OUR FEARS UNARMED ON THE BATTLEFIELD | ❝ Protect Seraphina. And don't trust anyone. ❞
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All she's ever known is a life of looking over her shoulder, running, staying out of the spotlight.
Until a man in blue with a large disc on his...
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A few hours had gone by before we passed over the New Jersey state line. Natasha was napping in the back seat (I never knew assassins did sleep), and I had kicked my legs up on the dashboard while I laid back in the seat, watching the scenery as it zipped passed us.
The car ride was silent, something I wasn't quite accustomed to. I usually liked listening to tunes. If I rode with Nick, he and I would talk about anything that we could think to talk about.
I missed him. It still hurt to think about him.
I sucked in a deep breath to prevent tears from forming in my eyes and I turned my head to look at Steve. Hopefully, he'd let me strike up a conversation with him. And hopefully, the kiss we shared a few hours before didn't make the conversation awkward.
"Where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?" I asked him, thinking back to him stealing the vehicle we were in. Go figure; that was the best ice breaker question I could come up with.
"Nazi Germany," he answered, shifting in his seat. I tugged my bottom lip between my teeth. Was it already uncomfortable? "And we're borrowing," he continued, "Take your feet off the dash."
I did what he said, a slight frown on my face, but I tried to be like Natasha taught me to be. I tried to be confident, not afraid of my own shadow.
I decided to change the subject so that I could ask a question that I've been wanting to ask. "All right, I have a question for you," I started, "of which you do not have to answer. I feel like if you don't answer it, though, you're kind of answering it, you know?"
"What?" he questioned.
"Was that your first kiss since 1945?" I leaned my head against the back rest of the passenger seat and couldn't fight the smile that formed on my lips.
"That bad, huh?" he asked, looking back out of the windshield
"I didn't say that," I giggled lightly
"Well, it kind of sounds like that's what you're saying," he retorted back.
"No, I didn't," I argued back defensively and teasingly. "I was just wondering how much practice you've had."
"You don't need practice."
"Everybody needs practice."
"It was not my first kiss since 1945," he answered suddenly. "I'm 95, I'm not dead."
I giggled again before tugging my bottom lip between my teeth. "Nobody special, then?"
He scoffed and I chewed on the inside of my cheek nervously. "Believe it or not, it's kind of hard to find someone with shared life experience," he said, turning his head for a moment to look at me.
