Mine | Marvel Soulmate AUs

Romanogers: I Love You

Admittedly, this one isn't a soulmate AU, just a one shot of my ship. Hope that's okay with y'all.

"You know, I'd offer to cook you dinner, but you seen pretty miserable already." Steve began, watching his closest, and loneliest friend break done alone in a cold, silent office whilst eating a sandwich.

The red head wiped away her tears, probably to avoid inconveniencing him with her problems. Too late.

It was partially Steve's own fault. He left her in the empty, eerily quiet compound to lead them. The place that seemed to whisper words that were once giggled like teenagers, over sleepovers between Wanda and Nat in their dorms. Words that were once yelled in teasing and lighthearted annoyance at Sam for hitting Nat in the face with Red Wing, and at Natasha for breaking of a wing with her face. Words that would never be heard here again.

"You here to do your laundry?" The woman asked, not maliciously, like he imagined any average person would. No, Steve did not detect so much as a hint of bitterness from the woman in front of him. Just an indifferent expectation of him.

And maybe that's why his heart lay in tatters on the floor. Because Natasha Romanoff had expected that he only came to her, only cared, because he wanted to wash his dirty clothes. Because that's what he had done to her for the last five years, but not today.

"To see a friend."

"Clearly, your friend is fine." She answered bittersweetly, a sad smirk on her lips, a far fetch from the smug one he had seen a few years ago every time she won one of their stupid, teasing arguments. The one she had on her face whenever she got the upper hand. The smirk he fell in love with.

"You know I saw a pod of whales when I was coming up the bridge."

"In the Hudson."

"There's fewer ships, cleaner water."

The red head rolled those breathtaking green eyes of her's. "You know, if you're about to tell me to look on the bright side, I'm about to hit you with a peanut-butter sandwich."

Steve chuckled softly at his friend's antics. "Sorry. Force of habit." He threw done his jacket and sat, looking into those beautiful eyes. He wanted to tell her everything, but he didn't. Not yet.

"You know, I keep telling everyone they should move on, and grow." He began, a flock of butterflies erupting in his stomach. He had to tell her, he just had to work his way up to it. Not now, but soon. "Some do, but not us."

"If I move on, who does this?" Natasha asked quietly, as if it was something she asked herself every day.

Steve felt that her pain, understood it's weight, just a little bit. And he knew, it was his fault. He left her alone to do something every day that tore her to shreds, because no one else was willing to do it. Steve knew if she stepped down things would get ten times worse, and he knew Nat could never be that selfish. But he was selfish enough for her.

"Maybe it doesn't need to be done." He told her, emotion in every syllable he pronounced.

The woman shook her head. "I used to have nothing, then I got this, this job, this family, and I was better because of it. And even though, they're gone, I'm still trying to be better."

Steve broke a little more with those words. She was better, so much better than any of them. She had lost so much, but stayed here, in this prison, in this place of loud ghosts and quiet hallways, out of a sense of duty every other living Avenger had lost long ago.

"We both need to get a life." He said, looking at her as if she was his world, because maybe, just maybe, she kind of was.

This brought another sad smile onto those soft pink lips, "You first."

Steve paused, thinking, and then, "Natasha, I-"

He stopped, I what? 

I love you.

I need you.

I want you to be happy and have everything you need and want in the world.

I want to see that smug smirk every day for the rest of my life, because I love it.

I want you to know, you are like my sun, you burn so brightly, even though your more broken than me, and for that I love you.

But he never got the chance to say any of that, because he was cut off by a familiar, masculine voice.

"Hi, is anyone home?"