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

Hug It Out - Pt.4/4

"Gave me a card when she picked you up the other day."

You held it out for him between your index and middle finger. He snatched it immediately, eagerly reading the lines, eyeing the tiny doodle of his shield.

Captain America's shield. Natasha sure spelled it out for you and... it was ridiculously easy to believe it. Everything about him fell into place. Steve Rogers. Hero. American. American all the way...

'He's too shy to ask for your number. But I can tell he likes you. Go see Mr. Rogers. He borrowed your Walkman. You want it back.' And all of that written on a business card from Y.S.O.P. Enterprise.

It had taken you a while to make up your mind about what you were gonna you next. And in the end... you took a leap of faith. After all, Steve could definitely be considered a decent guy. And you kinda liked him. Kinda.

The tips of Steve's ears turned red when he went over what the card read.

"You know who I am," he murmured, eyes still on the paper.

Well, duh. "The doodle is a bit of dead giveaway, yeah."

"And you still came."

His gaze found yours, searching. You wondered what he saw. Did he see a fangirl, wanting to have another moment with the national icon... or did he see what you were, a simple college student who met a guy so nice she wanted to see him again?

His own windows to the soul were opened only ajar. You believed he was confused and hesitant to find out the truth. He seemed... pleased to see you indeed, but he was wary of letting it show. Because... it wasn't so hard to figure it out, was it? Because it made him vulnerable.

"Well, I'm actually kinda afraid I'll get punched in my face like I was a Nazi or at least get escorted on Captain's orders, but yeah, here I am," you joked, hoping the nerves weren't audible in your voice.

His gaze returned to the card.

"I liked that you weren't worried about that in the café," he uttered, sighing and tossing the card on his table.

Your breath hitched and you dared to believe you were able to read between the lines.

I liked that you talked to a normal guy. Not the man flashing stars and stripes.

Indescribable weight you didn't know was bringing you down until now fell off your shoulders. You managed to charm a genuine smile, happy your suspicion was right.

You shrugged. "Guess that this is me visiting a friend at work then. Hoping I'm not interrupting too much."

His head snapped to you again, his cerulean eyes ignited by a spark of joy, roaming your face.

"Is that... is that what you want?"

Nope. I want more. I want flirting, I want snuggling, I want kissing and all the intimate stuff I can get. All in a good time.

You cleared your throat, examining his expression. Why was he so tough to read all of sudden? What did he want to hear? What could you allow yourself to reveal?

"I take what I can get," you said in the end, causing his eyes widen a fraction.

Did his thoughts ever get off rails just like yours? It was ridiculous to think that, yet... in the café, he almost seemed to be flirting, in his own very gentlemanly and old-school charming way. Or maybe it was just a wishful thinking...

He didn't reply. He stood few steps from you, quietly observing you as if he was trying to read you as well. The silence stretched, the air slowly being sucked out of the room. The longer his eyes were on you, the harder it was getting to breathe. You would swear that there was something... more. You wanted more.