Lessons in Rule Breaking and Other Reader-Inserts*Steve Rogers*Reader*

No Apologies Needed - Pt.4/4

"Um... really?"

She shrugged again. "Yes. Really. Not a single word. It's none of my business."

"Thanks," he murmured, a bit taken aback by the kindness and sympathy in her voice. She smiled at him warmly and he allowed himself to sink back into the couch, slowly relaxing. She patted his knee.

"You're welcome, Steve."

Then she looked up again, watching something behind Steve's back. It was when he finally noticed someone else had entered the room, now standing few feet behind him. Steve quickly spun to face the intruder, only to meet Sam Wilson's grin and raised eyebrow.

"So... have you called her yet?"

---

It was a movie night. A very tiring movie night which Steve was hoping to skip, but the others wouldn't let him.

They all gathered in the common room – where Steve found his phone he had been missing ever since the harassment time starring Natasha and Sam –, putting on the first episode of some TV series about a vigilante archer, because apparently it had been Clint's turn to pick a movie.

Honestly, Steve was barely paying attention, his brain otherwise occupied; he was still thinking about contacting the woman from the bar, for multiple reasons. He was toying with his phone absently with one hand, turning it over and over, while he pretended to follow what was happening on the screen.

He almost had a heart attack when his phone announced an incoming text.

Tony and Clint shot him dirty looks for disturbing the atmosphere, while Sam and Natasha looked his direction with almost excited expressions. Bruce just ignored it – until another beep followed the first one.

"Sorry," Steve uttered, opening the text from an unknown number with a frown. Most of the people having his number were in the room with him, hence had no reason to text him.

When he read the words on the screen, his jaw dropped.

Hello, Steve. It's nice to hear from you. I'm fine, except for my distaste for bars growing and occasional nightmares. Thank you for caring. I'm sorry if you beat yourself over what happened, because you don't have to. I'm coping. ...

The text ended there, and Steve opened the next one on autopilot, seeing the message was simply too long to fit into one text.

... If you want to see for yourself, we can meet. Just give me a call when you're free, I'm sure your schedule is more busy than mine.
P.S. Of course I remember the wings and Sam. Just like Natasha Romanov or you. You are all hard to forget. In a good way, I mean.

Steve simply stared at the screen speechless, unaware of Clint pausing the movie, the lights switching on or everyone observing him with suspension way more intense than when watching the movie.

Was it really who he thought it was? But... how? Why? And— 'nice to hear from you'? 'Thank you for caring'? How would she know she was still on his mind-

He quickly rolled up the page; and there it was, an undeniable prove of the conversation not being one-sided and not starting with her texting him.

There were texts sent this afternoon. Right after he had been teased by Sam and Natasha. Right after he had left his phone behind – or had he? Or had someone just snatched it from his pocket?

His ears started ringing, his pulse hammering in his temples, the edges of his vision getting a red frame. It didn't take a genius, it really didn't. His eyes found Sam, who was now looking everywhere but at Steve, while Natasha gave him a small smile.