BOMBSHELL. ❪ Steve Rogers ❫ ✓

six

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She returned the next day with no gifts, but a plan in mind instead. There was to be a ball in Asgard to celebrate the beautiful spring to come, and because Ophelia would not be allowed to bring Steve with her, she would bring the ball to him.

Her favorite part of any ball was the dance. She loved dancing because of how free it made her feel and how it brought people together. She was the Goddess of Love, and dancing always brought together couples. She thrived off of human interactions.

"Steven, I have a proposition," she breathed out excitedly as she clasped her hands together in front of her chest. "Let's go dancing."

His mouth was suddenly very dry and his heart began to beat faster - so fast that he could feel an asthma attack coming. He wheezed, bending over with one hand gripping the door frame as he attempted to calm his heart.

"Steven?"

Ophelia had never seen him like that before and it worried her. She stepped toward, placing her arms around him and helping him onto his couch before walking back to close the door.

"Steven, breathe, please. I wouldn't like it if you died. I quite enjoy your company. Breathe," she softly demanded, sitting down on the floor in order to catch a better look at his face.

She was royalty, but she was a woman who would help the commoners whenever she visited the village because she enjoyed helping others. Her knees were often soiled in dirt whenever she visited the palace gardens because she loved to sit with the flowers and whisper encouraging words.

"I-I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's all right, Steven. Really. Does this happen often?"

He hesitantly looked at her. "I... I get sick easily. I have fragile bones, bad hearing, asthma, bad heart."

"Asthma?" she questioned.

"Shortness of breath. Usually, when I get worked up."

She nodded. "I am sorry. I did not know. Shall we take you to a nurse? Is your mother here?"

"No, is all right. Ma's at work, and this happens a lot. I'm better now."

"If you are certain. What caused it? Was it because of me? Shall I leave?" she questioned.

"No!" he exclaimed. "I like... I like your company," he murmured. "I just - Not very good at dancing."

"Oh. Well, that's not a problem. I'll teach you," she offered.

"You know how many times Buck tried? I'm a lost cause," he muttered.

"Don't be so...sad, Steven. Come. We'll dance right here in this room. Do you have music?"

She stood up and looked around the room. Steve watched her for a moment and wondered how such a beautiful woman could stand to be near him.

"Steven?" she called out.

"Y-Yeah."

He scrambled to get up from the couch and walked over to the shelf that held two records. He carefully placed it onto the record player and let the needle down. Ophelia watched in silence, fascinated by the device.

"It's Night and Day by Cole Porter and Ginger Rogers," he informed.

"Rogers?"

"Oh, different Rogers," he murmured.

She hummed and nodded, holding out her hand to him. "May I have this dance?"

He smiled shyly and nodded, sliding his hand into hers. He had never successfully danced with a woman who actually wanted to dance with him. Most girls were tricked into dancing with him because of Bucky. With Ophelia, he felt that she actually listened to him. She was always polite to him and gravitated toward him, naturally seeking out his company. Dare he say it, he fancied her.