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Setting: 1930s/40s
You never had any intentions of hurting Steve Rogers. He was a good man and an even better friend.
You'd met him in high school and the two of you instantly clicked. There were so many things you had in common, drawing being one of them. He'd even drawn a picture and gifted it to you the day of graduation.
On this particular day, you'd also gotten into an argument with your other best friend, James Barnes, better known as Bucky. Bucky was always more popular than Steve, often shadowing over the man of smaller stature.
Bucky also shot Steve down here and there. Everyone knew how badly Steve wanted to join the army in a few years, but instead of encouraging him like a good friend should've done, Bucky always tried to convince Steve not to.
Deep down, you knew a guy like Steve wouldn't cut it on the battlefield. He'd probably be the first to go. However, you respected Steve's wishes and you always wanted the best for him. This was where you and Bucky disagreed.
"If this is what he wants, let him do it. You have no business bossin' him around, Bucky."
Bucky arched a brow and pulled one of his infamous smirks, "I'm not bossin' him around. I'm trying to save his life, doll."
Offended, you poked a finger at his chest, "Don't call me doll and don't act like I'm supporting a death wish. Steve's a smart guy. I believe in him and so should you!"
Just then, Steve strolled up, placing one hand between the two of you. In his other hand, the picture he'd planned to give you.
"Save your breath and stop fighting over me. I'm a grown-up and I can make my own decisions," Steve pointed out.
"Damn right, you can!" Bucky yelped sarcastically. "The two of you are perfect for each other—thick skulls and all."
With that, Bucky turned on his heel and stormed off.
Turning to you, Steve offered a small smile, "Here."
You took the drawing from his hands and tucked a curl behind your ear. Staring down at it, you let out a chuckle.
Steve had drawn himself quite a bit taller in the picture than he was in real life. Under his arm, he'd drawn you, smiling up at him. Everything in the picture was in black and white, except for your rosy red lips.
"It's beautiful." You told Steve, pulling him in for a hug.
In reality, you were an inch or two taller than him, but you never paid any attention to little things like that.
You glanced over at Bucky where he stood amongst a group of your classmates, tugging his graduation cap on his head. Your eyes met for a second.
"When it's time for me to enlist. . ." Steve hesitated and you turned your attention back to him.
