Steve - Steve "Extra" Rogers

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Sunlight seeped through the curtains, waking me up slightly. It was a new day, and to be honest I didn't want it to be a new day just yet.

"Steve," I mumbled, curling into my pillow. My hand reached out to the other side of the bed, but could feel nothing but silk sheets and soft pillows.

My eyes popped open and I stared at the empty right side, where he usually lied. My eyes watered as I remembered how he'd smile his lazy, easy smile, mumbling a good morning in his husky voice.

What was it like out there on the battlefield? Did he eat enough? Did he protect himself?

I'd forgotten how it felt when he was still here.

Our dog - well, my dog, now - jumped in the bed, and it really seemed like he knew that Steve wasn't coming home any time soon.

Not that he'd be coming home at all.

Tony told me that one of the enemies had shot him in the chest, and they couldn't find a pulse afterwards.

The doorbell rang and I forced myself to get out of bed despite having absolutely zero motivation to meet anyone at the moment.

The doorbell rang once more. Who could be ringing the doorbell at seven a.m.? Why would they be ringing the doorbell at seven a.m.?

"Coming!" I shouted quickly, trying to rub the sleepiness out of my eyes as I dragged myself towards the door.

"Y/N, open up!" I heard someone say from the other side.

I felt a dull ache in my chest when I realized that whoever was speaking wasn't Steve. It couldn't have been, anyway. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I opened the door.

"Bucky?"

"Yes. I need to give you something."

"Why now?"

"Trust me, I wouldn't be doing this so early in the morning if Steve hadn't asked me to do so."

I tilted my head in confusion, my eyebrows furrowed. What's going on?

"He wanted me to give you this," he said, handing me a piece of paper. "I don't know why, or what it means, but..." he trailed off, sniffling. "He told me to give you this when he... you know." A single tear streamed down his face, and he wiped his face immediately.

Then, he just left.

I guess we both had some mourning to do.

I looked at the piece of paper. It wrote 'life'.

What the hell? Was Bucky really that insensitive?

Another person was at the door just moments later, and I greeted them with a fake smile.

It was Nick Fury. Why on earth would Nick be here? As far as I know, he hadn't given a damn about Steve and I's relationship ever since we started dating.

"Here. Steve told me to give this to you."

Just as I was about to ask something, he closed the door and just seconds after, someone knocked on it.

"Guys, if you're playing a trick, now's really not a good time," I said loudly, holding the two pieces of paper as I opened the door once again.

It was Nat this time. Without saying anything, she just handed me a piece of paper and left.

What's going on?

The whole thing repeated a few more times, each with someone else giving the paper to me.

I tried to arrange the pieces of paper, but I couldn't exactly figure out what it was supposed to say.

'Life'
'Light'
'Are'
'The'
'You'
'My'
'Of'

What? Did they mess this up? Why didn't the words make any sense?

My S.H.E.I.L.D training should've been able help me out with this, but I- oh.

'You are the light of my life'.

That sounded more like a coherent sentence, but what's happening? Why would they-

I heard the front door being unlocked from the outside. The only one who has the other key was Steve, but that couldn't be him. He's gone.

I approached the door with a kitchen knife in hand just for precaution.

"Y/N?"

I almost tripped over myself. That sounded too much like Steve. Was I hallucinating? Does sadness and grief make you hallucinate?

Steve walked into the house with a big grin.

Wait, Steve?

"Y/N," he said, sighing in relief. "I thought you wouldn't be here."

"Oh, God. I need to stop taking those sleeping pills."

"What?"

"What do you mean, what?"

He chuckled. "I'm here."

"No, you're not." I put the knife down. This was a bad time to bring a knife with me. My mind wasn't in a state where-

I almost jumped at the feeling of his lips on mine. Without thinking, I pulled him closer, my hands on the back of his neck. I felt him hugging me a little tighter.

"I'm here," he breathed out. "I'm not dead, you're not crazy, we're fine."

"But Tony-"

He chuckled. "That was part of the plan."

"You did not," I said in utter disbelief.

"Hm, pretty sure I did."

"What the hell, Steve? You idiot! I thought you were dead!" I exclaimed, hitting him in the chest. Of course, he didn't even budge.

"I know, baby."

"What do you mean, 'I know'?! Steve, I thought I had to spend the rest of my life alone!"

"Are you saying that you want to spend the rest of your life with me?"

"Obviously!" I said, frustrated. "I can't believe you did that. I was so crushed," I cried. "I can't live without you."

"Hey," he said gently, cupping my face. "I'm here now. I promise that I won't do anything like that ever again, okay? This one's just a really special occasion."

I absentmindedly hugged him. "Don't leave."

"I won't, hun. I promise I won't," he said, kissing my hair. "Have you gotten all the cards?"

"I guess. People stopped coming."

"Okay, so what do you have now?"

I held back a tear. "'You are the light of my life', is that how it's supposed to be arranged?"

He laughed lightly. "Yes. Now that you've gotten that down, I'll give you another card, yeah?"

He handed me another piece of paper, and it said,'Marry me?'

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