bombshell blonde 💣

@ofduties

He opened a bottle of wine and reached for two wine glasses from his wine cart. Pouring just enough into the bottles, he picked them up and handed one to Sharon. Steve sat down on the black leather sofa and set his glass on a cork coaster.It wasn’t an IDEAL date, with his small, cramped apartment and his noisy neighbor on the opposite side of the wall, but he hoped she wouldn’t mind. 

          ——She'd give him points for making space in the smallest apartment someone could allow a super soldier with biceps bigger than her waist to stay in... In the meantime, catching up with what had been missed during their time apart was what the blonde wanted the most. Coated lips met the rim of her glass before they gently parted. To inquire about his new living circumstances seemed like the easiest method to do so.

“Apparently,” Hunter agreed dryly, with an amused quirk of his lips. God, a workaholic, eh? What did he have, some kind of magnet? It had to be. He seemed to draw them, somehow, like moths to a bloody flame. Driven women with no life outside their work, all wrapped up in it.

She was far too pretty to be a workaholic.

He lifted his bottle again and took a substantial draught this time, eyeing her thoughtfully. “So what kind of work so monopolizes your time that you don’t have any left for flirting? Because that -“ he enunciated it crisply, snapping the final t - “is a bloody tragedy.”

‘ Always, I love you too.’

It wasn’t like her to get stuck somewhere, especially if she had a few drinks prior. Usually the doctor was much more careful about what she did. Helping Barry and knowing what her sister did, she KNEW of the dangers out there. Though a piece of her slept better at night knowing that there were good people fighting for safety of others. She ADMIRED her older sister. While they might not have known about each other  most of their lives, she felt closer to Sharon than she had most people in life. This relationship came naturally, like they were meant to find each other. Resting her too warm forehead against the cold metal of the stall, she felt the tension from her shoulders relaxing. Sharon was coming and she would be looking if her sister didn’t have someone watch her from here on out. That thought brought soft giggling from the tipsy brunette, only stopping when she heard knocking. 

                     ‘ I’m a little stuck      I got sick and now im dress is stuck on something.’ 

           NO MATTER HOW FAR it was the Carter had to travel, the distance was nothing in comparison to that of her worry of her sister’s actual situation. Yet, she cannot express her frustration at her younger sister for the actions that had lead her up to this very moment. Whether it was an issue caused by her work or something else entirely, the blonde feels very much RESPONSIBLE for the lifestyle being lead by the scientist. Of course, not all aspects could be controlled, but nights that ended up in a public restroom were signs of trouble that could somehow be fixed without further consequences escalating. The common procedure of diagnosing any further symptoms was taken before an arm is slung around the younger one’s shoulder.

               HAD SHE NOT BEEN blinded by a fantasy that someone truly did care for her - had spent years by her side with constant reassurances that her presence was genuinely wanted -, she might not have had a rough brush with  D E A T H  not too long ago. Maybe she would have thought twice before pouring herself into someone whom she cared deep enough to have kept at shoulder’s side. Maybe she would have fully trusted her INSTINCTS… And better yet, there was a very, very good chance this question he had just posed would be one from an alternate reality, where his LOYALTIES had not been uncovered as aligned with the enemy, after almost six years of building a lie so delicate yet sturdy enough to be believed by even the best of agents… 

                              ( ––– But that was the one detail with learning who to trust. )

           … It’s funny how you can be so close to                       someone and still have no idea who they are…

             When you get too close to the fire, you get BURNED, and if love was a fire, she was a moth to a flame. She had held the fire ––– had rekindled it many times over, over the years. Her hands had been so badly  S C O R C H E D  after his betrayal, she could no longer go near without flinching with each movement he made… And, almost as a promise, there were SCARS to prove it. A broken wrist. Broken ribcage. Some MEMORY LOSS… Not to mention the bruises blotting her entire body. She was the masterpiece of an inferno, had almost perished within the fires that he had started in his childhood.  

              Which begs the question…

                                                 … CAN’T, OR WON’T ?

              The underlying issue was whether or not Grant Douglas Ward actually DESERVED a second chance. Those willingly in alliance with HYDRA were given no mercy… Well, that was for the most part. What had been experienced with the TRAITOR, for any given moment she could be found with him since their initial meeting as children… Before her close call to death, it had all felt… Good. It would be IMPOSSIBLE to deny that she had enjoyed a single moment at all with him throughout the years — and that, she thought, was the worst part. Knowing now that his getting  C L O S E  to her was a major part of his duties to the enemy brought on a sinking feeling in her stomach. How much of Grant Ward did she really know? Was it all a lie? How could she know that he wasn’t asking for her FORGIVENESS now as to provide future opportunities to repeat his actions?

              The truth was, she didn’t know anymore. What had been remembered was now replaced.                           Enemy, not a friend. Truth, not lies. Hate, not love. 

             Everything that had been was now completely different. In the end, the agent knew better than to make the same mistake twice…

                  ❝ Fine, that works for me. ❞ She wasn’t about to create a conflict where there wasn’t one. Alex knew better than that even if she believed otherwise. Alex could fix her situation once they were back in the United States. While looking over her tactical gear Alex was going through her mental checklist making sure she had everything before they headed out. Although this was slightly different now, having to wear civilian clothes when on missions. No gun holster on her thigh. While she understood the reasoning it felt oddly unsettling but Alex would get used to this as well. ❝ Ready to go? ❞ Alex questioned while hoisting the bag over her shoulder, it was going to be a long night but it wasn’t anything she wasn’t already used to.

                                       ❝What if I told you I DID?❞

[ ★ ]         It seemed like NOW OR NEVER, anyway, Steve’s humor fading slowly with Sharon’s increasing concern. The tease was mostly over now, the joke well administered, but now it was time to explain himself. Because he didn’t want to just keep playing DUMB, not with the opportunity he’d made available to himself. He didn’t want to be the coward (again) and simply walk away, not when he was looking at the chance to speak his MIND. It hadn’t been his intention of course - just a flop of his mind before he’d realized his mistake. But Steve enjoyed this - this time, this company, this experience - and he wanted more. After everything, after all his lessons, he was DETERMINED to at least make the effort to ask for it. The worst she could say was no, right?

                                       ❝What if I… What if I sort of MEANT it? All of it.                                              Starting with real take-out to start, or maybe                                              a better dinner, doesn’t matter. What would you                                                                                 SAY, then?❞

[ ♡ ]          Learning how to properly make use of the new SLANG was a customary element of the fundamental education one was intended to receive during the years being spent on the earth ( and especially amongst the YOUNGER generation ). For the most part, the agent had admired the captain’s endeavours to assimilate into the twenty-first century. He was learning much QUICKER than she’d expected. From the conversations that had filled her spare time - whether it be over the phone or in person - with him, his progress was something that she enjoyed noticing. It seemed, however, with this particular set of quips, that he had excelled even further forward. The SOFTEST of chuckles was successfully solicited from between a pair of pink pillows while the tip of her chin temporarily rested upon the base of her chest. It was a greatly surreal concept that certainly required a relatively brief session of thought on her part. 

He felt horrible having to leave her just as they started getting serious. He hated that he could only hear and see her, never able to touch her physically. It made him appreciate her all the more now, being able to hold her firmly in his arms. Feel the tears drip into his neck, and feel her pulse jump against his fingers. He tilted his head toward her face, her blonde hair was the only thing that was in his vision–but he didn’t mind in the least. 

“Hey Shar.” He murmured, his voice deep and think with emotion as his arm came around her slender waist, to keep her balanced. “I’m home.” The words were meant in more ways than one. He was home in America, in California. But he was home with her. Her scent mingled with the scent of his mother’s cooking. He was finally there. 

              There had been days on end in which getting out of bed had been almost IMPOSSIBLE. A few months after her love had left, she had lost her motivation to continue her daily routines, as if he had taken her purpose with him to Afghanistan. From a very young age, the socialite had DREAMED of living with a man whom she loved dearly, in the most stereotypical of manners — the image of her cooking while he walked through the front door after a regular nine-to-five job and giving him a kiss on the cheek had all been something she had idolised as a POTENTIAL future... And it had not come like so, in really any way, shape, or form. But having Chris envelope her — that was  B E T T E R  than any dream she could have, knowing fully well that their goodbyes could possibly have been their last. Their moments together felt more SPECIAL because of his job, whether she liked it or not. Withdrawing from his shoulder, coated lips pressed a tender kiss.