Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
//
And as anticipated per every love story, the attraction does not fleet, the tension stands thick with every transient ogle: but, the consummation, the confessing takes no call.
The weeks have passed, and since the fallacious vamp I tempted, things have taken step in the wrong foot.
Steve hasn't shaved, his hair now lay tousled, and his girth's truly impressive, seems he's broadened more in just days than my hips could after a couple slices of my nans apple curds.
God damn I miss that woman.
Sam has taken it upon himself to be the wise, shimmying from our depraved glances cross counter tops, resting fruit baskets, the bodies of enemies we rue - it's like a consistent challenge.
"Steve?" I sing, elongating the vowels to shrill, scrubbing the scarlet rust from under my nails and off of my callused palms.
His noble a righteous spirit entering the dim doorway sends me to cloud nine, leaning against the frame, damp hair still sheering the white tee - that's a sight for sore eyes, literally.
Exhaustion was haunting me, the constant turmoil of hiding from the world and trying to save it was.. tiring. I am strong but I'm no super soldier, my stamina will give out, and with our luck, Steve will leave Sam and I behind. One day.
"I made dinner." He doesn't question my calling, inspecting my shifting form, working intensively at the stains. My hands take hold of my necklace, focused at the splatter cross it's faux gold pendent, it is about time I let it go.
But to know such a preserved chain has been tainted in my crime, has me second guessing. I let it drop back to nuzzle my breast. "I don't know how to let it go." It's strained and I tug it along my neck, clasp to the front.
The bathroom isn't lengthy but he squeezes his way in, pressed much too close, it sends a jittery shock right through me. "Let's do it.. together." And he fishes his pocket, leaving a compass front hand round me, elbow grazing my waist. "Trade me?"
I don't know how to speak, lifting the aged metal in my hands, it's got weight, and significance to see.
And all I have is jewelry with my ring round it.
Though I oblige, easy to drape the thin chain over his open palm. And he immediately cradles it to his chest. "Now it's like we've let it go."
We meet eyes in the mirror as I click the possession open, thumb trailing down and over the grainy, black and white photograph. Peggy Carter, and though I wear a plum lip, I do double take the pane, furrowed. Christ.
"I'm not her, you know that, right?"
And he nods again, like the last. Instead of settling solemnly he breaks a tiny smile, so radiant, focused on only me.
"I'll never forget."
As I'll never forget the tranquility of the moment, the tension is of amity, no pool of desire, just pure sentiment.
But yet, the nag was there - kiss him.
All I had left now was him and Sam, and to risk all of this for one perverse thought. Is not worth it.
