Righteousness surged through his veins, decanting to every fingertip and limb he possessed. There was something infinitely charming about his mannerisms – the old-fashioned politeness, his natural gentlemanly air. You loved every inch of him, although he would never know it.
Working for S.H.I.E.L.D, numerous illogical events occurred, such as actual bona fide gods travelling to your green planet. One, with the intention of ruling it, the other, of protecting it.
However, all those notions flew out of the figurative window the day you became Captain America's shadow. It may have sounded mystical and exciting, but really, it was fucking terrifying. Perhaps it wouldn't have been so bad if you were a shadow in the conventional sense, but alas, you had become a genuine, goddamn shadow.
Being the early morning hours, the Captain stuck rigidly to his routine – waking, running (you resisted the temptation to spontaneously holler, "On your left!"), cleaning, eating, and cantering to one of the many training rooms, in which his personal set of sandbags and other such equipment were stored.
Everything he did, you found yourself compelled to mimic. Rather quickly, you assumed your role, figuring that if you played along, maybe God, or whoever was out there, would notice your anguish, and free you from this sparkly hell.
A filter covered your eyes, blocking out any imperfection he might have acquired over the years, instead opting to focus on the flexing of ripped muscles, the trickling of sweat beads down his forehead, and his half-naked glory. Honestly, his toned chest nearly invited Satan's waterfall to gush from your nose.
Resonating around the otherwise silent room, his various grunts filled your ears. It felt as if your bodies were flush together, when in actuality, you were in whatever direction his shadow would be. Unfortunately, that meant sometimes, you were at an odd angle, and couldn't actually see him clearly.
But when you could, holy hell was he handsome.
Throughout the day, he was kept preoccupied on missions, performing stunts you would have imagined an older gentleman incapable of. Then again, you had to remind yourself that he was frozen for seventy years, so he retained his youth.
Lucky you.
Thankfully, a S.H.I.E.L.D agent knew every trick he pulled, meaning you were able to keep up – despite the fact that you had no choice. Even if you couldn't, the universe would have found a way to force your body to move in techniques that were impossible for any normal human.
The paradoxical part arose when your teammates observed a female shadow, in place of Cap's.
