Chapter 2
He was mesmerized. There was no other way to describe it. Those green eyes had him locked in their gaze. He couldn’t have broken himself free even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. There was something about these eyes, something he wasn’t sure exactly how to describe. In them he could read shock, confusion, amusement and perhaps, what was that . . . curiosity? All those emotions seemed to swirl together in her green gaze, but what possibly shook him to his very core the most, was the overwhelming, out of body sense of belonging he felt. Home.
It engulfed his entire being. The feeling was so strong that had he been standing, it would have weakened his knees and knocked him over. He was frozen. The Devil himself could have unleashed Hell itself over the world in that moment and he wouldn’t have cared. Staring into those green orbs, Jade, he thought, Steve found a peace he’d never known. Then she blinked and turned her head. Whatever spell had befallen Steve was quickly broken by the loss of eye contact.
Rapidly blinking eyes and shaking his head, Steve’s bearing came back to him. Taking a deep breath he hadn’t realized he desperately needed, great job Steve you’re defiantly going to give yourself an asthma attack today, he took in the scene in front of him. He became aware of the fact that he’d walked right into this woman and caused her to fall as well as drop her bag of groceries on the floor. Embarrassed, he quickly brought himself up and rushed over to help her.
“I---I’m so sorry,” the apology leaving his lips before he’d even reached her. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. Are you hurt? Oh geez, I’m really sorry.” The slight chuckle he hears as he finally reached her stops him from saying anymore.
“Well, that was unexpected,” the woman on the floor says with amusement. A smirk playing at the corner of her lips. “Not how I pictured my afternoon going, but worse things could happen.”
Steve found himself struck speechless. Her voice was like sweetest melody he’s ever heard, and yet the slight rasp in it, was pure seduction. His right hand, of its own accord extends out, offering to help her up. Turning her head back towards him, she eyes his hand, debating he thinks, and then slowly her right hand reaches out and takes a hold of his. The second their fingers touched, sparks flew. An electric current shot up from their joined hands and jolted Steve’s beating heart into overdrive.
Did I imagine that?
Shaken but mindful of his manners he helps her to her feet. The quiet gasp he thinks he hears from her must have been something he imagined as well. With them both on their feet, the first thing he notices is that she stands almost at his same height, an inch or so shorter, perhaps 5’3.”After that observation Steve finally gets a complete look at the woman before him and she’s . . . she’s beautiful.
The sun shining behind her illuminates her in an almost ethereal glow. Her stark red hair contrasted perfectly against her pale skin. She wore a yellow knee length dress that although was nothing too fancy, it fit her perfectly. The matching yellow belt only helped accentuate her small waist and curvaceous form. Blushing Steve quickly brings his gaze back to her heart shaped face. Those jade eyes of hers, and full smirking lips, clearly showed her mirth. He’d been caught staring.
Mortified, Steve felt his face heat up with a blush. Dropping her hand and averting his gaze, he brings one hand up to rub behind his neck and looked to his feet. Trying to keep from shifting from foot to foot, and wracking his brain to find something to say, the goddess in front of him, either from pity or by luck, broke the silence herself.
“Your apology is accepted,” she began, “I’ll defiantly forgive you for causing the broccoli to fall out.” Its then Steve noticed that yes indeed, there was a head of broccoli on the ground, along with a few oranges and two apples. He was about to form another apology, but before he could say anything she continued, “I was thinking that I should add more vegetables to my diet. Guess this was the universes way of telling me not to, right?” she joked.
A slight chuckle slips from his lips. He thinks he was about to say something along the line of her not needing a diet before she began speaking again, and thank God she did. He would have died of mortification had those words actually made their way past his lips. What is wrong with me?
“So the slight against the vegetable is all forgiven,” she restated, “however,” she continues with importance, “if my jar of peanut butter is broken, well then, you and I are going to have a problem.” Sucking in a quick breath, Steve looked to her face again, gauging her seriousness. Her tone may have exuded gravity, but her eyes held humor. Steve’s response came quickly.
“Well we can’t have that ma’am. I’m afraid I might have had all the problems I can handle for one day.”
“Hmmmm. We’ll see.” She replied, her smirk not faltering once.
She made to reach down and pick up her black purse as well as the brown paper bag of groceries. While she did that, Steve reached down to pick up the spilled items, three oranges and two apples. He nestled them between his stomach and left arm. The broccoli he held in his right hand. Turning back to the woman, he noticed her staring at him, something akin to questioning in her eyes. It was when he brought the broccoli up in order to hand it to her that he understood.
“That,” she pointed to the flowering green vegetable, “can go right on into that trashcan over there.” Following the direction of her finger, Steve sees a trash can situate just behind him. “While we’re at it,” she spoke, “the apples can join it. Even if I washed them, I don’t think I would be comfortable biting into something that I knew for a fact rolled around these lovely streets. Would you?” she questioned.
“Fair point,” Steve conceded. He loved Brooklyn, but yes he had to agree, he would not want to digest anything that spent any amount of time on the streets. His health was already a gamble, why make it worse by bringing bacteria and who knows what else into his body. Not sanitary at all. So he walked over to the trashcan and dumped the apples and broccoli in. A bit of guilt fell over him. She must have either sensed it, or felt the same way based on her next words.
“I don’t necessarily like throwing away otherwise good food, but at least the stray animals that get into this will be happy.” She remarked. “Though to be honest,” she smirked, “even they might stay away from broccoli.”
Looking at her he couldn’t help it. It was ridiculous and he laughed. She seemed quite proud of herself for eliciting that kind of response from him.
Laughter dying down, he handed her the oranges which she then took with a softly murmured thank you as she placed them inside the brown paper bag again. Curious, Steve flicked his eyes from the paper bag to her face.
“So what’s the verdict? Is the jar of peanut butter unharmed? Or are we going to have that problem you mentioned?” The question was laced with a hint of humor.
“It is unopened and fully intact, looks like it one less problem for you today.”
“Good.” His slight teasing faded away to earnestness. “Again, I’m sorry for walking into you and knocking you over. Are you at all hurt?” He takes a moment to look her over again, searching for any visible injuries. He concludes that apart from a slight dirt stain towards the hemline of her dress, she looked unharmed.
Confirming his thoughts she spoke, “I’m fine, accidents happen. Perhaps though, it would be better for you to pay more attention to your surroundings. I’m alright the fall wasn’t anything serious for me. You however, did you hit your head on the cement? You’re bleeding!”
“What?” Steve asks in confusion. The woman in front of him only points behind her left ear in answer. Rising his own hand to his left ear he feels something wet on his fingers. Bringing his hand in front of himself he sees a small bright red stain marring his own pale skin. Funny, I don’t remember knocking my head during the fall Steve thinks. It must have been from earlier he concludes.
“You’re hurt,” the beautiful redhead uttered. Frowning, a quick flicker of concern crosses her bewitching eyes. “Come, let’s see if we can take care of that bleeding.” Turning on her heels she makes her way over to a bus stop with a bench a few feet away.
Where did that come from? Was it always there? I need to pay better attention to my surroundings Steve though.
Having placed her purse and grocery bag on the empty bench she turns back to him with an expecting look. “Come along, let’s see if we can fix you up.”
He was about to protest. Fussing over him was unnecessary, he felt fine, for the most part anyway. Sure he was a little sore, he had been in fight earlier, and he did seem to find himself knocked down a bit today, but overall, he was fine. The little blood was more than likely just a scratch. Being as small as he is, and ‘frail,’ geez I hate that word he thinks, often times the smallest cut could be mistaken for something more serious. Before he can inform her of her of just that, he is interrupted.
“It might be nothing too serious, but we can perhaps clean you up a little bit. You wouldn’t want to frighten innocent people walking around like that, would you?” she teased lightly. Embarrassed, he silently obeyed her directive and makes his way to her side.
Standing next to her, she places her hands on his shoulders and guides him to sit. Her touch is gentle, but still Steve can’t prevent a slight wince at the contact. She notices it right away and drops her hands.
“Sorry,” she whispers.
“No, it’s nothing you did ma’am. Don’t worry about it. I think that I just might have a bruise there,” he says.
“That’s one quick forming bruise then,” she commented, concern showing on her face once again.
Not wanting her to think she had anything to do with his injury, he continues, “it probably happened earlier.”
“Earlier?” she questions him.
Somewhat awkwardly and embarrassed Steve admits, “Yeah, I had a---there was a . . . situation . . . earlier.” Meeting her gaze he observes her looking him over intently once more. Feeling immobilized and hot under her stare, he can do absolutely nothing but stand perfectly still under her scrutiny. He briefly wonders how much of a mess he must look to her.
Coming to some kind of conclusion, a slight flicker of understanding crosses her jade eyes. A perfectly arched eyebrow rises up as she says, “I see.” Teasing now gone from her tone. Pursing her lips, a beat of silence follows before she speaks again.
“Let’s see what we’re dealing with shall we.”
She motions for him to sit down once again, and he silently does. Sitting next to him, she angles her body to face him. She brings her hands up and stops before touching his jaw, asking silent permission. With a nod he gives it, and then, it’s a very good thing that he is sitting down, because the moment her hands touch his face, that weak in the knees feeling is back again. She doesn’t falter however, so he remains motionless, letting her turn his head first left then right in her inspection.
Assessment complete she drops her hands and turns away from him in order to reach for her purse. He misses her warm hands immediately. Steve sees her pull out a white handkerchief from the purse. Placing her handbag next to her, she then reaches for the grocery bag and brings out a bottle of water, and how that didn’t break he’s not sure. She pops off the corked lid then pours some of the water onto the piece of cloth. Placing the bottle aside she looks to him again.
“This is going to be just a little cold.” Nodding his understanding, she takes his jaw with her right hand and turns his head a little to the left. With her left hand she brings the wet cloth up and begins cleaning up the cut. Wiping away the blood she can see that the cut itself is not big nor is deep, a fact which she helpfully shares with him.
“There is only the one cut as far as I can tell. Cleared up I can see it’s small and not deep. Lucky you or you would have had to go to the hospital and gotten a few stitches. It looked worse than it was,” she informs him. “Here, hold this in place.”
Steve brings up his hand to take the place of hers against the cloth. Hands free, she re-corks the bottle of water and puts it back in the brown paper bag.
“You don’t seem to have any other cuts. No bumps so you shouldn’t have to worry about any concussion, and no visible bruising. The one you say that you might have on your shoulder should be iced when you get home. You should probably dab some ointment on that cut when you get home as well. Other than that, you seem ok.”
“Thank you,” he says. Before he can stop himself he asks, “Are you a nurse?”
A flutter or something he can’t make out crosses her eyes. Its quick and he can’t be sure he actually saw it. She smirks at him, distracting him from questioning what he thinks he might have seen.
“No,” she proclaims, “but I do have basic understanding of first aid.” There is a hint of something in her tone that Steve can’t quite make out. He doesn’t think he has ever been more intrigued by anyone more than he is by her.
“You could always go to the hospital. Get an official ‘all clear’ in fact, you probably should.”
“That’s quiet all right ma’am. I’ll take your word for it.” This seems to amuse her, evidence clear on her face. He can’t comprehend why.
She stands up and picks up her purse and grocery bag. Steve hears it then, the approaching bus. It’s also in that moment he realizes that during the entire course of their meeting and interactions, they have not actually been in their own world. Everything seems to come back into focus around him. The sounds of traffic, voices overlapping, people walking by them. The world didn’t just stop, it continued on around them.
Facing her once more he sees that she has both her purse and grocery bag in hand. She is still smirking. It’s as if she knew that he was just now realizing that the outside world existed. He feels heat rising to his cheeks again. The bus has now come to a stop behind her, its doors slowly opening. She makes to turn away from him, but he’s not ready to not be in her presence anymore. Quickly coming to his feet, he pushes aside is feeling of embarrassment to speak.
“Ma’am,” he starts, “I---I--,” he stutters. I what? He thinks. Don’t go? Would you be interested in joining me at this diner I know so we can talk? No, he can’t say any of that. Even if he did, there is no way that someone like her would be interested in someone like him. She is watching him, expecting him to say something. So he does.
“Thank you.” A light sigh following suite. “For helping me.” He continues, “It wasn’t necessary. After all, it was me who bumped you and caused you to have to throw away some of your groceries.”
“Yes, the broccoli. That was such a hardship, believe me,” she teases. “The peanut butter would have been the real tragedy. Alas, it is safe and all is well.”
“Still, thank you.” He tells her sincerely.
She seems to ponder something for a moment then acknowledges his gratefulness. “You’re welcome.” What she does next surprises them both. She brings up her right hand to his face. Seeming to realize what she had done a little too late, she commits to her action and holds his face in hand for just a moment, looking into his eyes. She then makes as if to wipe away a bit of dirt from his forehead. Task complete she drops her hand.
Turning away she starts walking to the open bus doors. Before stepping on, she glances at him again and says, “Be careful. I don’t think anymore street fights are a good idea today.”
Steve never mentioned any fight. Stunned he replies, “What makes you say that? I never said anything about a fight ma’am.”
She finds it amusing he can tell. “You didn’t have too.” With that she takes a step forward and boards the bus.
Not having seen anyone else intent on getting on, the bus driver closed the doors. Steve can see the redheaded dame take a seat towards the back of the bus. She turns back and graces him with one final smile. As the bus begins to pull away, she waves goodbye. He can do nothing but smile and wave back in return.
Steve stays rooted in his spot even after the bus has disappeared from his view.
Feeling a presence next to him, he turns to see an older gentleman, in his 70s Steve would guess, standing beside him. His gaze was in the direction Steve’s was not too long ago. Without looking at him, the older man says, “I only caught a glimpse of your last interaction but that was enough. A beautiful dame like that, you should have asked for her number son.” Steve ponders this for a moment before shaking his head.
“No,” looking dejected he turns back in the same direction the man is staring, “I should have asked her name.”
The man’s shocked gaze meets Steve’s, his only reply to the statement is a sad shake of his head. The man then turns away and walks over to sit on the empty bench.
Steve contemplates what to do next. He no longer wishes to run his errands. They can be put off for another day. Now all he really wants is to go home and take a shower. Turning back he walks in the direction of the older man, nodding his head at him, he begins walking to the opposite end of the street. Seeing a taxi, he decides to hail it down and take it home, not really in the mood to walk anymore. The way his day had gone, it would probably be for the best. The taxi stops in front of him. Getting in he gives the driver his address and then sits back. He uses the drive to think about jade eyes and the beautiful woman who they belonged to.
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Twenty minutes later he is arriving in his neighborhood. Coming to a stop, Steve pays the man and exits the taxi. As he is walking up to apartment he pulls out the handkerchief from his pocket, folds it over to a cleaner side and brings it up to his head. Pulling it back he sees it clear. They bleeding must have stopped. Good. He reaches back in his pocket to pull out his key. Looking up he sees a figure standing by his door looking his way.
“Hey Punk!” the man exclaimed. “I bring yummy goodness from that deli we like a block away. Hurry up!”
Slightly shocked by the shout Steve drops both key and handkerchief on the ground. At least this time I’m not on the floor too he thinks. Picking up the items, he hears, “A handkerchief, really? Since when do you carry one around Steve? Wait, what is that? Is that blood?!” Steve notices that upon dropping the piece of cloth, it unfolded and you could clearly see the blood stain on it. Clutching it to himself he meets his best friend’s gaze.
Taking in Steve’s rumpled look, Bucky, in a serious voice finally says, “What the hell happened Steve?”
“Nothing?” Steve tries. Bucky just pins him down with a hard glare. “Fine, let’s get inside and I’ll tell you all about it.” He opens his door and walks in, Bucky right behind him.
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Thirty minutes later, Steve has told Bucky all about his encounters that day. The only thing he omits is the presence of the green eyed beauty. That he wanted to keep to himself.
Steve had been right. Bucky was not happy.
At all.
He ended up spending the rest of the afternoon and part of the evening being lectured by his best friend about his stupidity. When Bucky finally left for the evening, it was with a gentle hug and an “I’m glad you’re ok. You Punk.”
Lying in his bed at night, it was the green eyes that he pictured in his mind as he closed his, that lulled him to sleep. They followed him into the dream world.