Sitting at your dressing table, you smile contently at the mirror reflecting the red color you just applied on your lips. You love that shade and consider a strike of luck it’s your husband’s favorite, too.
It’s the very same color you were wearing the first time you met him, a little bit more than three years ago. It was New Year’s Eve, and you were one of the few nurses on duty at the hospital. You and your coworkers arranged a little celebration by midnight and you felt it would be ok to put on some make up for the celebration’s sake. You expected a turbulent night, hence the excitement of party people who ended up drinking too much. What you didn’t expect was that two of those people would end up being the world’s most famous super soldiers.
Apparently Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers had snuck out from the famous Tony Stark New Year’s party to explore smaller ones around the city, with a bottle of some stolen rare Asgardian mead in tow, of which Bucky had had a little too much. As a result, you had a giggly ex-brainwashed assassin sitting in front of you, with deep cuts spilling blood from his forehead and some bruises around his body. It could’ve been very much worse if it weren’t for the Serum in his body… what had happened, according to his slightly more sober friend, was that he had spotted a “broad” across the street and didn’t see the car coming. It would be the first time you would witness the effect of said Asgardian mead on the super soldiers and experience the famous Bucky Barnes charm.
While you tried to clean and stitch up his cuts, the former Winter Soldier used his smooth tongue, calling you “doll”, saying it was destiny he hadn´t made it to the other girl because he was meeting the love of his life, that he would love to have the red of your lips on his at midnight, and so on… All the while he never noticed your attention was somewhere else, or better, someone else. It was the sweet, shy smile behind his shoulder that made your heart skip a beat… You smiled back and, in the end, Bucky was right. It was destiny…
That midnight you didn’t kiss either of them, but eleven months later, you were married to Steve Grant Rogers, the owner of the most beautiful smile you had ever seen, the love of your life. Bucky was the best man.
Now, two years and three months later, Valentine´s Day to be more specific, you are getting ready to go on a date with your husband. Something you haven’t done for a while…
You aren’t naive. You figured married life wouldn’t be only about roses and kisses. The long absences, the late nights working at the tower, the life risking job… All of that you could understand and were prepared for when you accepted his proposal. You understand there was no separation between Steve Rogers and Captain America, on the contrary, the two of them worked together to be the one man you love so much and you always longed to experience every aspect of his life.
But he doesn’t seem to think so…
Nothing had prepared you for the excruciating silences when you asked about his work, the lies when you tried to talk about his nightmares or when he got home with red rimmed eyes. You tried with all you could to encourage him to but, he never talked to you about his life as Captain America and, clearly, did all he could to keep you out of it. He kept you distant even from his partners, who you knew were like a family to him. Well, except from Bucky, of course, who practically lived in your house, bragging about being the cupid in your relationship. But apart from that, you only met the rest of his team on rare and quick occasions. In three years of relationship you have been to the tower two or three times.
The emotional inaccessibility is what took the floor from under your feet, you spent a lot of your time wondering why that would be and, eventually, you accepted the conclusion that he loves how normal he’s able to be beside you and maybe he doesn’t want to taint it. Of course, it makes you wonder about the extension of his love, does he love you for yourself, or for the chance of a so called normal life you represent that could be provided by any other “normal girl”? You couldn’t bear the second option so you pushed those thoughts aside. You stopped asking and tried to make the most of the moments he’s with you, not mentioning that other part of his life any longer, building a bubble around your relationship and praying it wouldn’t come the day when you would see it blow up in the air.
Now, you are excited he asked you on a date for Valentine’s day. You love him and want to spend a nice and romantic evening with your husband. Satisfied with your makeup, you stand up and take another look at the full body mirror. You’d bought the dress a while ago, hoping to wear it at this exact date. You feel pretty and confidence swells in your chest as you grab your purse and walk out of the room towards the stairs.
Steve should be waiting you on the living room, so your brows furrow when you see the lights of his office on. You smile and walk on your toes, aiming to surprise him, only to stop on your track when you hear something sounding like a sniffle. Trying to remain quiet, you can see his back turned to you from the half-opened door. He’s sitting by his desk staring into a small object in his hands.
Your heart breaks when you realize what you’re seeing. He’s crying. And what he’s holding so securely between his hands is his old compass.
The one with Peggy Carter’s picture.
A sharp feeling cuts through your chest. You can feel the coldness seeping through your hands. You know she has been an important part of his life and that he has loved her dearly. It has never bothered you; it is part of his life after all and you love every single bit of him. But, now, at this very night, seeing him crying over her on Valentine’s day, a date that should be yours as a couple, as two parts of one, makes you acknowledge what you’ve been trying so hard to hide from yourself: you would never be apart of his life. His real life. Not really. Not ever.
You can’t do what Peggy Carter did, you don’t understand his job like Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff and all of his partners do. You don’t belong to this side of him. This is why he never made an effort to include you. You’re an average nurse. No special powers or abilities. No rough shared past. You’re a reference to normality and that’s it. How easy it would be to replace you… Does he love you at all? Does he want you, whatsoever? Or just the idea of normality you offered him? He doesn’t think you fit in his life, that’s clear… All your doubts, your insecurities about your relationship, come rushing against you as he traces the lines of Peggy’s beautiful face and holds back a sob before placing it back in the desk’s drawer.
Holding your breath, you cautiously walk to the living room before he could see you there. Your mind is reeling, you love him, you love him so much. But you’re not sure you can live with the fact he doesn’t love you enough to let you in, let you take part of his life entirely. Or maybe the possibility that he doesn’t love you at all… Your heart is beating is so loud in your ears you don’t hear the steps behind you.
“Hey, sweetheart…”
You briskly turn to see Steve smiling a few steps from you. You can see he’s cleaned the tears and it makes your heart break even more. One more thing you don’t have his permission to know of.
This is it.
You smile back.
“God,” he breathes after his gaze roams over you, “You look absolutely beautiful.” He steps closer, putting his hands on your forearms. You welcome the warm and comforting touch.
“So do you,” you say, letting your eyes drop to his grinning lips, “Your will always be the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen,” you whisper meaningfully, before bringing your lips to his. You kiss him desperately, putting on the gesture everything you’re feeling right now. Sorrow, anger, love, passion, longing… He’s quick in responding, pulling you closer to him by the small of your back, while your hands cup his cheeks.
“Wow…” he pants, resting his forehead against yours, “Happy Valentine’s Day.” He brushes his lips over yours.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, my love,” you respond, stroking his beard with your fingers, relishing on the sensation you love so much.
You go to dinner and it’s perfect. He chooses a small Italian restaurant. A favorite of yours. You eat superb pasta, drink a delicious wine… You laugh at his jokes and hold his hands. You look, really look at him, trying to engrave in your mind every little detail of his face you love so much. The blue of his eyes, the little grey whiskers on his beard… the still shy smile.
Back at home, you barely wait for him to close the door before jumping on him. You take of his clothes and he takes yours, discarding them on the living room’s floor. Kneeling on the carpet you go down on him while he’s plastered against the wall, grabbing your hair and breathing sweet words of praises and curses.
He cradles you and climbs up the stairs. All the while, you can’t take your mouth away from his lips, your nails dig into his skin. You want him, you want it all. He pins your hips on the mattress, fucking you deep and slow, taking your breath away as you feel every bit of him. Your eyes remain on each other when he comes inside you and triggers your release. You let your whole body feel the powerful orgasm, trembling limbs and hot skin against one another.
“I love you, I love you,” he repeats. His lips feels soft against your ear, his breath is hot and washes over you.
You smile. It feels real.
It would be a good memory.
~~~
If someone would ask him, Steve wouldn’t know how to answer exactly what prompted him to do so, but he stares at Peggy’s picture in his old compass. Another life. He wonders how things would’ve been if he hadn’t put that damn aircraft in the water. Would he and Peggy have gone to dancing after all? What then? Would they be lovers? Partners? Friends? Would she have been his wife?
The mere thought sounds strange to his mind and to his heart. You are his wife. His lover. His partner. His friend.
He would never forget the day he met you. Of course that jerk would go and try to throw his old Barnes charm over you. You were a vision, after all. In your blue uniform, talking and touching gently, scolding when you needed to, unfazed by their Avenger status. He couldn’t help but smile behind his friend’s back. His destiny was sealed when, instead of falling for Bucky’s charms like it should be, you smiled back at him.
It was a small ceremony. Just a few of your friends and family. Bucky was the best man, and has never stopped throwing his charm over you. His teasing flirting has become a thing between you and him and Steve could barely control the absolute joy in seeing his brother and the love of his life getting along so well.
The love of his life.
God, how he fears the day you will leave him. Yes, that day will come, he’s sure of it. What sane woman would want to spend her whole life beside Captain America and all the bullshit that came with it. There’s no stopping that. This is who he is. Selfishly, he tries his best to keep you out of it and maybe prolong his time with you. You’ve met and married Steve Rogers, so this is the only man who he’s been giving you. Captain America remained in missions and in The Avenger’s business, from where he keeps you protected from.
A tear runs down his cheeks and he absentmindedly runs a finger over Peggy’s face on the picture. What could’ve been didn’t matter, anymore. He wouldn’t do anything differently even if he could, because the way things happened brought you to him. Even if he is sure you will, eventually, leave him, it’s you and only you for him.
The night is perfect.
You look absolutely beautiful, you laugh, you talk, you hold his hands. Eat and drink some great food and wine. And you make love, over and over. He feels your love coming out of your pores, the heat of your skin warming his own and his heart. God, how he loves you.
He tells you that.
After sleeping as well as he only could when you were beside him, he wakes up with a soft smile on his lips, which fades right away when he notices the absence of your warmth on the bed. He looks at his cellphone and it’s too early for you. The bathroom’s light is off. You must be downstairs…
He sits on the bed, stretching his limbs and cracking his neck, the smile naturally coming back to his lips. It’s always an event to remember when you decide to surprise him with breakfast, but he decides to surprise you with his help, instead.
As he walks down the stairs, the silence he meets sets an uneasy feeling on the pit of his stomach, which intensifies when he doesn’t find you in the kitchen. No sign of breakfast being made.
“Sweetheart?” he calls, heading to the living room where his voice echoes through the empty place.
Where the hell did you go? He stops on his tracks when he sees the light seeping through his office door. “Babe?” he calls, opening it, only to see the unoccupied room. But something over the desk table catches his attention. His old compass. And a small note beside it.
The air falls heavy and cold in his lungs as unconscious steps takes him to his desk. Trembling fingers open the neatly folded piece of paper with his name in your handwriting on it.
“I’m sorry I’m not the right partner for you. I love you and somewhere deep inside, I still hope you will love me. Pathetic right?”
His body drops to the chair and he feels his heart slipping through his throat. Even though the words form a puzzle in his mind, his heart knows what that means. This is it. The day he’s been dreading since the moment he met you is finally here.
You left.