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

Nothing but the Truth - Pt.5/8

Warning: Creepiness towards the end

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5. The Truth and Nothing but the Truth

Coming back to work was a true life-hazard.

First of all; you didn't sleep properly. Basically not at all. You couldn't get Steve out of your head, the feeling of his lips on yours and their taste, his hand on your face, on your hip, the sensation under your hands, the sincerity of his tone when he spoke about you two together— all of that kept you awake, ruminating in your head, lines between reality and fantasy blurring in the restless slumber keeping you company the whole night.

Second of all; there was a pile of paperwork to fill since you had been absent for the past two days.

And the worst of all; your colleague was there. And she was terrible at hiding her curiosity, downright gawking at you, her eyes following your every movement, every nervous shift in your posture, not single one of your sighs escaping her attention.

Hint: you were mostly sighing because you could feel her glare on you and you knew she wanted to ask about everything, but gave you the opportunity to start talking on your own, while being passively aggressive as fuck and driving you insane.

You didn't have the slightest idea what to tell her, because you sucked at lying, you felt bad about lying to her in the first place, but you also signed an agreement on confidentiality.

So... where did that leave you?

You sighed again, leaning your back onto the backrest of your ergonomic chair and crossed your arms on your chest, spinning the chair to face your friend.

"Yes, Irma? Something on your mind?" you asked slowly and she grinned.

"What the fuck is happening?" she blurted out, using the swirling hair as a means of transport, wheeling to you and despite yourself, you snorted at her ridiculousness.

"Well, you're staring at me the whole day while I'm working through this big-ass pile of papers, that's what," you shrugged light-heartedly, while your heart in fact sped up in your chest.

Why hadn't you just kept your mouth shut and let her come to her own conclusions only?

"Har, har. Spill it. I leave you alone for two days..." You left her alone, thank you very much, because you hadn't as much as shown your face in the office. "You've been ignoring me." In that respect, she was correct; she had been blowing your phone and you blatantly ignored her. "You can't escape me now. So...what the hell?"

"Huh?"

"Don't play dumb," she huffed, patting her feet on the ground again, her inching closer. "Congrats and all that, glad that the heart-eyes exchange that's been going on for a while escalated and you finally got together, but what is all that interview and engagement bullshit?"

You groaned, turning back to your table, and let your forehead meet the desk.

Right. Irma was convinced that there was something going on between you and Steve (she very pointedly called it 'eye-fucking', god bless her for saying 'heart-eyes' just this once) ever since you had started going to lunch with him alone – courtesy of Sam being busy at the moment and hence not being able to join you two and your friendly lunch date.

"Got the sentiment, not the words, hon. Spill it."

You huffed, your lips barely moving as you were practically kissing the table. "It's..." What was the word they always used? "...classified."