Lessons in Rule Breaking and Other Reader-Inserts*Steve Rogers*Reader*

Lessons in Rule Breaking - Pt.2/2

You hated yourself, you really did. It wasn't the fact that you couldn't have held on a little longer and you had texted Steve the very next day in the morning, unable to follow some basic rules of socializing, just to let him know when you could possibly arrange the movie theatre thing. It wasn't even that you had done puppy eyes at everyone you had been trying to convince to tolerate the project. That was all okay.

You hated yourself for the burning sting of disappointment that had come when Steve hadn't texted back. You had been sitting by your phone like a super-excited nag for three days and you had been getting sadder with each hour with no response.

Now you were just annoyed. It was ridiculous and you were unbearably stupid. Of course he wouldn't text back. What had you been thinking? Chances were he had even given you a fake number, no matter how genuine he had seemed when talking to you – he was probably used to that kind of interaction and he hadn't wanted to be rude in person, trying to maintain some sort of an image; even when being so casual you would have believed he was just a kid from Brooklyn. He had been nice and you had trusted him. Stupid, stupid-

"Oh god, I'm such an ass," you murmured and went to continue on your pizza from the place on the corner of your street – you had it delivered despite the fact you could have just walked for five minutes and get it yourself. You were pathetic.

You stared at the rest of your food, losing the last remains of your appetite when remembering that stupid wannabe genuine eyes.

Your phone rang. You eyed it suspiciously, wondering who was calling you – perhaps you didn't check in with mum for too long? Possible. Someone wanted to switch shifts? More than likely.

To your shock, the ID was announcing a completely different caller. Steve. And just like that, you realized you weren't pissed at yourself only, but also at him. But you were too curious about what he would have to say for you to just let the call unanswered.

Also, there was a possibility of some poor bastard, whose number Steve had given you when trying to dodge you, was calling now, confused about your text.

"Hello?" you said to the speaker unsurely, anxious about what was to come.

There was a relieved sigh on the other end. "Hi! I'm sorry, it's Steve, I-..."

Well. Now what?

"Uhm... hi, Steve."

"Hi," he repeated hastily and if you weren't angry with him and utterly disappointed, you would have found his hastiness endearing – but you were. "I... I wanted to apologize for not texting back-"

You sighed and decided to save him from his misery. "It's okay, Steve. You don't have to explain anything. I understand."

You did understand pretty well. Maybe you could have said it less harshly, but you were pretty proud of yourself for just speaking with him.

"I... don't?"

You cleared your throat and swallowed the stupid tears of humiliation that had no logical explanation.

"No, Steve. You were just trying to be nice and didn't know how to get rid of me, I get it. I won't bother you-"

"What?" he breathed, sounding honestly astonished. "No! I— is that what you think? I didn't even know you texted me until five minutes ago, we left for a mission in the middle of a night and we have 'no-phones' policy during those, so... I'm really sorry."

You sat on your couch, frozen, letting the information sink in. Hold on a sec. Was Steve still having missions? Was he-- it kinda made sense; he had been there for the battle of New York. And what else he would be doing? Posing for art students? Barely – he was a soldier waking up after seventy years. Of course he was still fighting. Probably under some super-secret organization.