Gunpowder and Satin ; BW

2.9

YOUR POV

"Steve, oh my-" I gagged, leaning over a faded green trashcan near the park bench, "I'm going to die. I see the light!" I yelled dramatically.

Steve chuckled, his calloused hand patting my back softly, "You're not going to die. Running is important if you want to be healthy."

I stood up, wiping the sweat from my brow and shook my head at the blond, "Not the way you run it's not. Why do I even need to run? I just swing everywhere."

"Keeps the legs warmed up. You don't want a stronger upper body than a lower one, do you?"

I gave Steve and unimpressed look, "You have the body type of a Dorito."

Steve just playfully rolled his eyes, "You ready for a few more laps?"

I lightly groaned, swallowing thickly, "Fine. But I'm going at a nice slow jog pace."

"Alright." The blond chuckled.

I took one step and my legs burned, feeling like jelly. Sweat glided down my back and strands of my hair stuck to my forehead. Living with Steve has been nice, both of us getting to know one another the more the days passed. I learned he really liked to workout as it kept his mind occupied. I couldn't blame him, though. I mean the guy is in ice all his life, wakes up in a new world and then fights aliens, making friends with far from normal people. It couldn't be easy. Hell, I grew up in New York and was still having a hard time adjusting.

After a half a lap, I practically fell down into the grass, seeing another man panting as he sat down against a tree.

"Need a medic?" Steve playfully joked towards the man.

"I think I do." I grumbled into the blades of grass.

The man laughed, "I need a new set of lungs apparently. You just ran like thirteen miles in thirty minutes."

"Guess I got a late start." Steve shrugged, giving me a glance as I laid in the grass, unmoving while staring at the sky.

"Oh, really? You should be ashamed of yourself. Go and take another lap." The man joked.

"Did he take it?" I asked, raising my head up slightly to see, "I assume you just took it."

Both men laughed as I plopped my head back down on the soft grass.

"What unit you with?" Steve asked.

"58, Pararescue. But now I'm working down at the VA. Sam Wilson."

Steve helped Sam to his feet and I pouted, sticking my hand out for him, "Won't you help me out too? Old people are always so kind."

Sam laughed while Steve just shook his head, already used to my antics and teasing. Steve walked over to me and yanked me to my feet.

I smiled, "Thanks, gramps."

"This is y/n y/l/n and I'm Steve Rogers." Steve introduced us.

"Nice to meet you." Sam smiled politely.

I droned out their conversation, feeling my throat burn as I walked towards a nearby water fountain to quench my thirst. The cold liquid made me moan in satisfaction as I greedily drank it up. I took a breath, leaning down to get some more water when my phone buzzed in my back pocket. I stepped away from the fountain, wiping the water off my chin as I pulled out my phone. I smiled when I saw Natasha had texted me.

Widow: Mission alert. Extraction imminent. Meet at the curb :)

I pouted at the mission part, feeling my body completely exhausted from all the running Steve insisted I do with him. Of course, I only agreed because he said he'd buy me an ice cream cone for all my hard work. Looks like I wouldn't be getting that ice cream cone. I saw the sleek mustang pull up to the curb where Sam and Steve were talking, deciding to fuck with them and scare them.