I Found Myself Dreaming...
The moment Steve made eye contact with her, the music throbbing in his mind stopped. He immediately felt his heart break, witnessing the fresh tear tracks on her face and the redness of her eyes. She had been crying.
“In the blink of an eye
Just a whisper of smoke
You could lose everything
The truth is you never know…”
Brand new lyrics began anew in his mind. The words were acapella with no melody to accompany them quite yet, yet they were just as powerful and reflective of Steve’s emotions as any words could ever hope to be. Simple, yet succinct, summing up all his greatest fears.
Here she was. No hiding or excuses, no denial—there was no running from the fact that she was the root of every thought he’d been having lately, asleep or awake. Intentionally or not. He internally agonized over this realization. What could he do? What would he do? Officially, they’d never had more than a superficial conversation. But unofficially, if his instincts were correct, (and he always trusted his instincts), this could be the moment that decided his fate.
“Let's take our time to say what we want
Here's what we got before it's all gone”
His breath was taken captive in his chest—impossible to be freed unless the very next sentence he gave was spoken to her, professing his truth.
“'Cause no, we're not promised tomorrow.” The words reverberated throughout him.
His heart was pounding in time with the music.
What should he say? How should he say it?
“I know this will sound insane, but you’ve been all I could think about since the moment we were introduced, Darcy Anne Lewis. I think it’s beyond time we’ve been probably introduced.”
He offered his hand as a greeting. “I’m Steve Rogers, and I think you’re beautiful. I would really like to get to know you better.”
Steve watched as her entire body froze in surprise at his words, the lyrics within him growing louder and truer with every syllable spoken.
“Any chance that I get
I'll make the most of the minutes
And love with no regrets.”
His hand floated in the air awkwardly as he awaited her response. His super soldier eyes watched her face for every micro-expression, looking for the smallest cast of doubt to prove that he’d just made an entire ass of himself.
Slowly, almost as if time had come to a complete halt, he watched in slow motion as her smaller hand slowly raised to grip his own. Her grip was strong, yet polite.
“Darcy Anne Lewis, born and raised a colossal fuck up, and delighted to make your acquaintance. I’m going to take this as confirmation that I’m not dreaming. Otherwise, I will voluntarily become a hermit spinster in Vermont and start a business running a B&B with six cats.”
“Wherever we're standing
I won't take you for granted…”
The music continued in Steve’s mind as he laughed loudly and pleasantly, the joy echoing through the hallways.
“No Darcy, you’re not dreaming.” He said with a smirk, returning the handshake he’d offered politely. The significance of the words wasn’t lost on him as he spoke them. Inside he was hoping for some kind acknowledgement that the sentence meant something, anything, to her.
He got what he wanted.
Darcy froze, her eyes wide with fright. “Definitely a dream, then.”
Steve recognized the fear on her face immediately. The entire conversation, her facial expressions had been hard for him to decipher, especially with his own frayed nerves rioting in the background of his subconscious. Yet the moment he uttered that sentence and saw the recognition flutter quickly over her face, he knew. FINALLY,Steve was able to understand some semblance of what must’ve been racing through her mind. He was overjoyed for the opportunity to address it.
“This must be the fourth time I’ve assured you it wasn’t.” He said as his confidence grew.
As if his hand was as hot as boiling water, Darcy broke the handshake, one step away from hyperventilating right before the very man she intended to stay invisible before.
“Oh, come on, you said the thing from my dream so this must be dream.” She said, before disregarding him altogether for the sake of trying different methods of waking herself up. “Come on Lewis, WAKE UP!” She pinched herself and tried not to wail at the pain.
“Darce, I can assure you that you’re not—” He started, but she cut him off.
“Don’t say it! Because that’s exactly what you’d say if this was a dream! So, what, now we’re gonna have sexy times in the hallway? Every night of this, every second of it has been IN. MY. HEAD. It’s just a side effect of Asgardian magic, and it’ll wear off soon. It has to. Because there is no way on Odin’s green Midgardian Earth, that you, CAPTAIN AMERICA, would be interested in someone like me.”
“Captain America isn’t interested in anyone.” He clarified immediately. “But Steve Rogers is wildly interested in Darcy Anne Lewis. I love the way you laugh. I love your jokes. I even love the awkwardness that you feel so self-conscious about. Yes, I’ll admit, the scarily realistic dreams I’ve been having about you lately made me worried—but only because I assumed, they were fleshed out versions of my desires. Darcy, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since you took it upon yourself to correct the pop culture list Sam wrote for me. Even if I didn’t realize it at the time, I had been making excuses to see you and soak up your warmth since then.”
He boldly took a step towards her, gripping her hands in his own. This would’ve appeared like a confident move to most people, but to those who truly knew Steve Rogers, the blush that reached below his shirt collar gave away his hesitation.
“I want to sit down and talk about what the hell has been happening between us. The dreams, the awkward conversations…all of it. Preferably over coffee, if you’ll join me.”
The tears welled inside Darcy’s eyes again. It was just too good to be true, it had to be. Right? Her hand softly cradled his cheek as she finally met his blue eyes.
“You don’t even know me, not really. This isn’t the real you...” She whispered sadly, repeating the same line from his dream.
He gently placed his hand on top of hers, cupping her hand to his face. “Darcy… I want to get to know the real you, and more importantly, I want you to get to know the real me. Not the shield or the icon…but me. The same sexual deviant that would’ve had to repent at Sunday school until I turned blue in the face for how many times you’ve popped up in my dreams. Even the ones where we’re at some small café, arguing about something that makes your eyes light up the same way they do when you laugh. Or watching some movie on the couch that upsets you because of the poor writing or shitty ending. I want all of that…with you.” He said, resolutely.
“And I've always lived like this…
Keeping a comfortable, distance…
And up until now, I had sworn to myself that I'm content with loneliness
Because none of it was ever worth the risk,
But YOU are, The Only Exception…”
A new song—simple with its acoustic melody, yet so undeniably true with its choice of words—thrummed within Darcy, slowing gaining momentum and volume as her indecision raged within her.
What should she choose?