UNDRESS. ❪ Steve Rogers ❫ ✓

seven

⁀➷

Steve wanted to be drunk on her attention and affection, but it would be hard considering Florence had fallen asleep on the side of the tub.

He couldn't believe she simply fell asleep while talking. She leaned on the tub, closed her eyes for only a few seconds, then fell asleep.

His heart had ignited long ago when he first set eyes on her. He felt the world closing in as his eyes took in the adorable child in front of him and all he wanted to do was hold her and watch cartoons with her.

Now, she was grown up, and after fifteen years of not seeing her, his heart soared for her and the fire within was blazing and thrashing around wildly. He was sure it would never extinguish for as long as she lived.

He wasn't exactly sure what to do. There he was, sitting in her bathtub in his seal form, which she constantly reminded him was cute and fat, of which he disagreed with each time.

It wasn't that she had never known love, but it was that she was rarely interested in it. Because of the Witch blood in her veins, her only talent was being able to feel what people's intentions toward her were. She never told her mother - because of her dislike toward witchcraft - but she was sure she knew.

She liked Melon-ball - she laughed at the name each time and was sure he was tired of hearing it - but she was secretly worried about him digging a burrow in her heart, then leaving her to deal with the pieces.

She wouldn't phrase it this way, but she was worried about him turning out like her father. One minute they would be happy and together, side by side, then the next, he would be dead. It was an almost incredibly idiotic fear, but it was a fear.

She never laid awake in the middle of the night thinking such thoughts because she didn't care enough to. Her relationship with her father's death was a relationship in constant turmoil and it would drag her mind around, slowly pushing her off a cliff and into a cataclysm of insecurities and dark thoughts of initiating dark magic for - really - no purpose at all.

Meanwhile, Steve would lay awake in the waters or on a rock underneath the moonlight with his soft belly bared for the cool breeze to hit against and think of his love for Florence. It was wrong of him to hide his human form from her, but his pelt was to be protected at all costs. Her family held a special place in her heart, mainly because of her great-grandmother who had welcomed him onto the land with an attitude, bad legs, and a cane. He soon would welcome her into his life.