PANDORA'S BOX ▷ s.rogers [2]

(10) IF WE GO DOWN

ERIS TRIED HER HAND AT COOKING.

She'd never seen herself bustling around a kitchen with Captain America, apron wrapped around her waist, trying to keep sizzling pancakes from burning. But then again, Eris hadn't seen a lot of things coming.

Like last night, for instance.

They didn't talk about what had happened after her nightmare, but Eris felt her face turn warm every time Steve glanced over. She'd awoken to a rumbling stomach and with nothing else edible in the house, they'd set to making breakfast.

Soon, the smell of scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes filled the air.

Only some of it was burning.

Mainly, whatever Eris tried to put together.

Steve clearly had been practicing because he didn't seem to be having any trouble. Eris, on the other hand, swore as she cracked another egg too hard. Shell pieces went splattering into the pancake batter.

"For the love of all things—"

"Winky," Steve cut her off and came around to her side, catching her hand before she splattered the remaining eggs. His eyes danced. "Gently."

"Oh, bite me, Spangles."

He ignored the comment and helped her fish out the shells, amusement written all over his face. Eris grunted lowly and set down her spatula.

"I don't cook. Remind me again why we couldn't order in?"

"Because this isn't New York. And after a bad nightmare, it's good to take your mind off of... other things."

Steve said the words like he knew from experience. Eris turned her head to meet his eyes.

"You have nightmares?"

"Sometimes."

"Does it ever get better?"

"One day," he said gently. "You'll realize a nightmare is only a nightmare. And when you wake up surrounded by people you trust, the memory won't seem so bad. Because the horror will be over and you'll be safe."

And you'll be safe.

Eris gazed at him quietly. She didn't realize how close they were until their noses nearly touched and quickly, she turned back around.

"Of course."

"Your pancakes are burning."

"Your pancakes are—" Eris cut off as smoke began to rise from the skillet and the fire alarm overhead went off. Swearing, she grabbed the pan handle, stumbling over to the sink, and turned on the water. With ringing laughter, Steve moved to turn off the alarm.

"Told you."

"Of all things," she grumbled. "Why is the fire alarm the only thing up to date in this place?"