Saving Her | one

t w o

The Winter Soldier lays on my carpet. His blood soaked clothes smell, and his panicking is scaring me. I try to inspect him, but he keeps glaring and cowering to his left side. Didn't he ask for my help?

I yawn and make my way towards my bathroom. The bright light blinds me for a few seconds, but my eyes finally adjust and I grab medical supplies that I think he'll need. I go back to him mumbling incoherent words in Russian.

"You okay there soldier?" He glances up at me and stares into my eyes. They aren't pretty as his eyes. They're like two delicate pools of blue that hold so much more than he shows. If I looked any longer, I might have got lost.

Because I'm fucking tired, my mouth has no filter. 

"Do you have a map? Because I got lost in your eyes."

Frosty's face remains stoic and his blue eyes are surging with anger.

Fuck you Frosty

"What's that on your face?" He asks.

His voice is soft, deep, and velvety, like a piece of smooth chocolate cake. It catches me off guard.

"Just a scar I got when I was stupid and tripped on air." I laugh at the memory.

I accidentally yank hard on the surgical string and hear him groan. I release my death grip on the needle and continue stitching him. I graduated college with a PhD and work at Gillmonger Medical a few blocks from here. 

"Okay don't freak out, but I'm gonna take off your—what is it—suit? Yeah." 

I pry off the black vest that sticks to him due to the blood seeping from his wounds. 

Fucking gross. 

Then I peel off the rest of his suit, leaving him and his six-pack in my view.

Holy shit, his abs are more defined than my future.

I shake my head and continue cleaning all of the wounds scattered across his torso. I finish treating his wounds and kiss them out of habit; I'm emotionally drained and probably will forget all of this by tomorrow.

"I was taught that wounds don't heal unless you give them some love."

He just silently analyzes me with an unreadable expression. He doesn't even seem bothered by the fact that I just kissed almost his entire upper body.

"Are you hungry? I can warm up some pizza and help set up your room. And I think I have some extra clothes so you can shower."

"I can't stay," he says brokenly.

"Yeah and I'm President. Don't say stupid shit."

I grab some pizza and heat it up in the microwave.  I get rid of Clarie's things and grab some of Matt's clothes. They look a little small, but they should fit.

" I found some clothes and the pizza is done. Please take a shower."

Smells like death. 

I hear the water run and turn on the TV. News reports about the Avengers litter every single news station, so I decide to set up The Goonies even though I still feel like smacking Clarie all the way to hell. I make some popcorn and put it in my most prized bowl. I hear feet padding against the wooden floor and run back to the couch.

"Thank you," he forces. His face is still stoic and a storm still brews his eyes.

"No problem, Frosty." His face flashes a different emotion for a split second, before returning to grumpy soldier. 

I hope he doesn't plan to kill me. Better not push any buttons.

I hand him his plate after he sits at the opposite end of the couch. The creases in his forehead dent as he stares at his food. 

"It's pizza. Deliciousness created by an Italian god who, from the goodness of his heart, decided to share it with the world." He just grunts and turns his attention to the movie.

Halfway through the movie, my eyelids drop, and I fall face first into the bowl of popcorn.

 Right before I sleep, I feel a paper towel wiping away all of the popcorn oil and grease.