#fv3

1957 Facel Vega FV3 Coupé

Por apego, queremos caber em lugares 

que não mais nos pertencem:

somos como peças que, por desgaste,

deixaram de se encaixar, por isso,

é importante saber deixar, se ir, estar. 

A Diana Prince x Steve Trevor ficlet written for Day 3 of Fic Advent. When I saw the prompt “snow” this little everyone lives AU was all I could think about.

They’re dancing very close (or, swaying, as she’d called it once, all those years ago) when the first fat flakes of snow begin to fall around them.

Diana doesn’t notice at first. Her head rests lightly on Steve’s broad chest as they move together to the music coming from the speakeasy across the street, her arms around his broad shoulders and his hands splayed gently at the small of her back.

Eventually, though, the flakes begin to fall in greater numbers. It isn’t long before Steve and Diana find themselves in the middle of New York City’s first proper snowfall of the year.

Which feels fitting, somehow, given that it’s just struck midnight and tonight is New Year’s Eve.

Diana pulls back from him when at last she realizes what’s happening. He cannot seem to stop the smile that spreads across his face at the sight of her, clearly so happy and so delighted by this development.

“Snow,” she says, awestruck. She looks skyward, beaming. 

“Yup,” Steve agrees, feeling his smile grow even wider. “It’s snow.”

Does she remember the last time they danced together in the snow like this? He does, of course. It’s never far from his thoughts, that night they spent together in Veld. Not even after all these years with her by his side.

She shifts her arms up a little, until her fingertips are winding their way through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“It’s like this, Steve,” she murmurs softly. “Isn’t it.”

His eyes go wide at the memory of the questions she’d asked him when they danced together all those years ago.  And at the lame, completely improvised answers he’d given her by way of response.

What is it like?

I…. have no idea.

Because he hadn’t known, then, what it was like to share a lifetime of breakfasts and newspapers with the person you loved. How could he have possibly known?

But he knows now, of course.  And if he’s not much mistaken, he thinks she might know too. 

“Yeah,” he murmurs back to her.  He pulls her close, and presses a gentle kiss to her temple. “I think… I think it’s just like this.”