#slvicshdow

new york city feels smaller than she has any right to. she’s almost made claustrophobic by her;  leaned forwards against a railing that overlooked harbor,  bridge,  and memorial set up to their left. taking two steps in every direction had ghosts waiting for mary jane,  slide shows and soundless clips of a man who’d dominated her thoughts since the eighth grade. 

he’s dead.

                            UWS GIFT EXCHANGAGANZA !!

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“ --- My beloved Natasha!” There was SOMETHING about coffee shops that Sif thoroughly enjoyed. Perhaps it was the thick scent of caffeine in the air, or perhaps it was simply the concentration of so many who were so focused. She tried to lower her voice ( unsuccessfully ), tipping her cup toward the other woman in greeting. “I was not certain I would see you this time. I have been hearing MANY, MANY THINGS about you. You ought to come to Asgard soon --- they would welcome such stories.” 

Steve never had much exposure to fairy tales --- his Ma ( God rest her soul ) always thought the world around ‘em was a bit too real, a bit too somber for fairy tales. Instead, she told him stories about a faraway place and faraway people; the stories he heard were filled with storm clouds and the color green, with old bogs holding older secrets. Sarah Rogers told him stories of her childhood and became a figure as mythical as the sun. 

He found that even fairy tales that weren’t fairy tales had some sort of meaning. 

( He should’ve asked what made HOME --- a place, a person, a moment close to tipping over? ) 

“I could stay.” 

He wasn’t sure what made him say it, what brought them here now of all times --- when the sun was dipping low and they were long settled with one another, content and comfortable. But, once, they stood on the EDGE OF THE WORLD; they were standing somewhere near as fragile now. The end of the sidewalk at the end of a long day. 

( Maybe in their line of work, they’d never again know a home like his Ma had --- but they deserved moments, didn’t they? Just moments. )

“You wanna get OUT OF HERE?” Dark was settling over the city, angry and soft all at once. He was feeling ANTSY in a way that he’d always felt, like being here was worse than whatever they might find in the dark. “Anywhere --- my treat, as long as it’s under ten dollars. I don’t got much more than that; my paycheck’s a little late this month.”