𝑺𝑶 𝑰𝑻 𝑮𝑶𝑬𝑺... | ❝and all the pieces fall right into place❞
-- where steve rogers and alliah carter
are part of yet another love story
with twists and turns.
or
-- two polar opposites fall
in love while the world is...
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♡☆♡
I'm not sure how it happened. I don't know where it happened, with who, and with what. All I know is that I woke up with my body sore and screaming in pain, (something that very rarely happened, as pain and I came to an agreement long ago) and I wasn't in my apartment.
I stood up quickly as I tried to get a hold of my bearings. The place I was in was an all-white apartment, the furniture looking a little worn and old, and the couch I was currently lying on was very soft and also a dreadful brown color.
I heard some scuffling from a door beside the kitchen, and I grabbed the first thing I could reach. A pot with a fake plant in it. My body protested as I slowly walked to the source of the sound, keeping my footsteps as light and soft as I could.
I turned the door and yanked it open, the pot in my hand ready to lash out. I gasped, seeing Steve looking up at the sudden noise and before I could think, he threw a pillow at me. I dodged it easily, yelping.
"Hey!" I rasped. I cleared my throat, trying to get rid of the rough edge of my voice. I didn't want to think too hard about why my voice was like this.
"Sorry, I didn't see who it was," Steve apologized sheepishly. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw me standing. Steve rushed forward, his hands hovering a few inches from my waist. "What are you doing up? You should be resting."
"Me?"
"Yes, you!"
"I'm fine, Rogers," I said, rolling my eyes at his theatrics. Steve was so overdramatic. I just got a little beat up, that's all. "What? Did you think I died?"
"Two bullets, another bullet grazing your arm, three broken ribs, a fractured ankle, along with a bunch of cuts and bruises all over your body is not 'fine'," Steve said as he wrapped his arm around my waist and led me onto his bed.
"I've been worse."
"Worse? How could you possibly have been worse than this?" Steve said, lifting the edge of my shirt to look at my bandages. I tried to slap his hand away, but he caught both of my hands in one of his and held them above my head as his free hand looked over my bandages.
"You could at least take me on a date first," I joked, trying to keep up the face of bravado. Of all people to go to, I had to show up at Steve's front door. What had gotten into me last night? Memories flashed like a film reel inside my mind, reminding me of what had happened. I tried to keep a straight face, but I was terrified as I recalled what happened.
The corner of Steve's lip twitched at my joke, but he kept scanning my injuries.
"I've never seen this side of you, Rogers."
"What?"
"You're being so... protective," I said. Steve lowered my shirt, tucking it into place as he let go of my hands. "Thanks," I muttered under my breath.
