Infliction ☾Steve Rogers [1]

six

06 | ARE THOSE ANTLERS?

"HOW LONG UNTIL we reach Stuttgart?" Steve asked as he boarded the jet, suit on and shield in hand.

Morana watched him with careful and interested eyes. Of course, she had seen the old pictures of Captain America in his suit before, but it was different seeing it in real life. She could practically feel Marque tremble at the sight of him. Steve was impressive with rippling muscles clad in bright patriotic material.

"About six hours at maximum speed. We'll arrive just after sunset," said Natasha, closing the doors behind Steve and igniting the jet's engines.

Steve nodded his head once as he sat down and placed his shield next to him while the siblings sat on the opposite side of the jet.

Morana glanced at her brother, his eyes were studying the shield just mere inches from him. He appeared as if he'd give his left foot just to hold the vibranium shield in his hands.

She leaned close to him, "try not to faint before we get the bad guy."

Marque's gaze immediately broke and he turned to glare at Morana. "Shut up, Mo."

Morana felt her insides swirl and she closed her eyes as she let her head lean back against the jet while Natasha lifted the jet and forced it into its max speed.

It wasn't until the jet stopped rattling that Morana opened her eyes again. She had never really enjoyed flying, especially not on aircrafts that were this fast. Her gaze met the sight of Steve, looking down at the metal floor with an unreadable look on his face.

"You okay?" asked Morana, capturing Steve's attention, who immediately place a small smile on his lips.

"Always," he replied smoothly.

Morana simply nodded and sunk down in her seat. She knew that it was a lie, but it wasn't her place to question him. He was a man out of time. The world she grew up in was a dystopian to him.

"Mo doesn't like flying either," said Marque, shrugging as he stood up and leaned against the pillar next to Steve. "Especially when she doesn't have a choice."

Morana nodded in confirmation at Steve's puzzled look. "It's not the flying that bothers me, it's..." Steve trailed off to motion around them. "Everything."