𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓹𝓲𝓽𝔂 | 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝓭𝓪𝓯𝓯𝓸𝓭𝓲𝓵𝓼

Steve starts finding the flowers around mid-June.

They pop up at random times of the day, seemingly randomly, but they're always there every day, waiting at his doorstep.

Some days, he gets a bunch of sunflowers or a bouquet of white larkspur or, sometimes, just a single yellow rose.

At first, he tries to look out for who is leaving him flowers, unable to deny the cold creeping of suspicion. Once he is sure that the flowers are simply flowers (S.H.I.E.L.D has instilled some immediate scrutiny in him, unfortunately), the suspicion dies down into curiosity.

By the middle of the second week, he decides to forget about looking for the mystery flower-bringer, and resolves to simply accepting the act as one of the few genuinely good things in his life.

Sometimes, if he finds the flowers in the morning or before he has to head over to S.H.I.E.L.D, he takes them with him and gives them to Natasha because she always looks thoroughly amused by him doing so, and because he thinks that she'd like sharing a part of what often makes his day.

Once, as a challenge, he lets her talk him into giving a bouquet of sunflowers to Fury.

Steve decides that his apartment looks more like someone's home when he has vases filled with flowers lying around the place. They die out soon, but he always has new ones as a replacement, and maybe Steve feels happier when he is greeted by daisies and roses rather than emptiness and silence.

He doesn't ever really expect to find out who the anonymous flower-giver is, let alone catch them in the act. But there she is- a girl, no older than seventeen, crouched down to place a bunch of daffodils onto the doormat.

Slowly, calmly, her head turns in his direction, and she straightens to her full height a moment later, a pleasant smile on her face while he only stares in silence, unsure of what to do with knowledge he isn't sure he wants anymore.

"Are you the one who's been leaving me flowers?" he asks after a beat of silence that had been uncomfortable for him even though the girl looked absolutely unbothered.

She smiles, absently stroking the petal of one of the flowers in her hold, and nods. "You got me," she says.

Steve waits, hoping for some sort of explanation, but she stares back at him. And while there is nothing searching or intimidating about her gaze- it was rather passive and expectant, actually- he feels pinned down by it, feeling like she can see right through him without her even trying to.

So, he asks her instead, "Why have you been doing that?"

"Because you looked like you needed it," she answers easily, like it was the most obvious thing in the world and a perfectly natural thing for someone to notice.

Although something about the way she smiles tells him that this isn't far from the norm for the girl.

"You're Captain America, aren't you?" the girl asks, tilting her head and looking at him with unbidden curiosity. Steve straightens up in response, looking down at her cautiously as her smile widens. "I remember you from eight grade American History class. And the Battle of New York, I suppose."

He's confused by her nonchalance, but he nods anyways. Typically, nobody recognizes him, and when they do, he's greeted by a lot of enthusiasm or nervousness. Never really the kind of ease the girl is exuding.

She is more relaxed than he is, and it's throwing him off more than he cares to admit.

"Your name is Steve..."

"Rogers," he supplies when he realizes that she's trailed off because she doesn't know. He isn't very surprised. He doubts most kids remember him beyond eight grade history or the mantle of Captain America.

But she smiles cheerfully, and somehow, he knows that she's smiling at Steve and not the Captain.

"I'm (Y/n)," she introduces herself calmly. "I'm across the hall from you."

He's struck by the simplicity of the meeting and how utterly regular it is even if the circumstances are a little strange. So, slowly, he relaxes and tries to return her smile, finally noticing that the girl has the kind of air around her that puts one at ease.

Despite her obviously eccentric nature, he figures that she'd be quite likable if one got to know her.

He twists his keys in his hands, deliberating for a moment. "Thank you," he says after a pause, "for leaving me flowers."

Her unbidden smile shifts into something brighter, and he's oddly happy that the expression is because of him.

"No problem, Mr. Steve," she assures, now extending the bouquet of bright yellow flowers towards him. "Daffodils," she informs him meaningfully. "They stand for cheerfulness and new beginnings."

Dazedly, he accepts the flowers, looking from them to the girl and finding a sad smile curled on her lips that he doesn't understand, but it fills him with an unknown heaviness that he doesn't like so he looks away again.

"You have very pretty eyes," she observes, undeterred as she inclines her head. "They're kind of sad right now. Like the sky when it's about to rain." Her expression shifts again, carefree youth etched into the soft lines of her face as she turns away slightly, hand raised in a half-wave. "I'll see you around, Mr. Steve. Have a nice day!"

And then she's gone before he can process everything that happened, leaving him standing there, oddly confused and acutely aware of the fact that he was alone.

His gaze drifts to the door across from his- the one (Y/n) disappeared behind- and he shakes his head, resolving to just get some sleep before the mission he has later in the night.

He dreams of rain and grey skies, and daffodils, and of strange girls with faraway smiles and all-seeing eyes.

When he awakes, his eyes wander over to the bright, yellow flowers and he smiles to himself because somehow, the room doesn't feel quite as cold.

Daffodil: The daffodil symbolizes rebirth and new beginnings. In some cultures, it is also a symbol for luck.