"We are here!" Steve exclaims excitedly as he parked, parked? Yeah, parked in front of a shop.
The shop displayed it's vintage theme, which helps me recognize the store. Again, as stated, we are in Washington DC... So...
Anyway, its whole design, made me feel like I am brought back to the forties. Or fifties, but that doesn't really matter.
What matters is that this beloved store is known in the whole city, or nation for that matter, as Sweets' Parlor. As the name states, sweets are sold and purchased by lovely customers everyday from the store. Specifically ice cream. My literal favorite food in the entire universe.
My lips curl straightaway in a five-year-old's grin at the sight of the frozen dessert's store beneath my motorcycle helmet.
Steve hopped out of the bike as I gaze up at the ice cream parlor's sign, my face plastered with happiness. He doesn't notice although at my happiness beneath my helmet, therefore he frowns, "Amelia? Is there something bothering you--?"
I squeal.
As I remove the helmet out of my head 'cause I'm sweating inside.
"Of course not! I- I mean, Steve... You brought me to one of the happiest place on Earth!" I reason, still with that five-year-old grin plastered on my face. "I mean, honestly this place is second to those Disney Parks, but hey! Its ice cream!" Displaying my awesome jazz hands at the ice cream parlor's sign, Steve let out a husky chuckle.
"That is great," he says still chuckling, then he offered me his arm. "But Disney?"
Hopping out of the bike, I gladly accept his well-built, masculine arm concealed beneath the sleeve of his plaid shirt and brown, leather jacket. "Where dreams come true. Especially for toddlers and your inner toddler!" I remark as he lets out another laugh, both of us walking towards the ice cream store.
"Walt Disney... All I've seen from him was Snow White." Steve asserts as he opens the door leading to the ice cream parlor, the door emitting a small jingle of a bell. "Plus, I think I am too old to have access to my inner toddler. Considering for I'm asleep for like what, seventy years?"
I roll my eyes, scoffing, "Steve, you look like you are on your late twenties than in your nineties. Besides, biologically speaking, you are around on your late twenties accordingly to the deduction of the number of decades you were frozen." Ah... Science-y talk. Like who says 'biologically speaking'? Me, myself, and I.
The ice cream parlor is surprisingly lacking some customers due to the time of the day, like who eat ice cream eleven o'clock in the morning? Me, well, sometimes.
Steve sighs, "well, thank you 'cause I'll take that as a compliment." I give him a smug look when I notice a middle-aged man, in his sixties, enter the ice cream counter on where you'll obviously order your ice cream. "Ah, Amelia!" Steve suddenly became confused.
Meet Joe Blair. Proud owner of his family business, another well-renowned family business in DC, of Sweets' Parlor. Since 1942! "Good morning, Joe." I greet back with a warm smile. Again, I am a regular. It is ice cream...
"The usual?" He asks, wiggling his eye brows at Steve. "And same goes for, wonder boy?"
Blushing hard, I noticed Steve does the same. I defend myself linguistically, "erm, I don't know, but does Steve," I turn to face Steve from behind, "like Neapolitan? In a cone...?"
"Erm, vanilla in a cone is fine." He answers while scratching the back of his neck, some red still creeping . Joe just laughs as he turns to Steve, "son, isn't vanilla a little too, I don't know, old-fashioned? I recommend cookie dough."
I try stifling back a laugh due to the raw irony, as well as noticing Steve playfully glaring in my direction. "I guess I can try cookie dough, sir." He concurs with Joe's recommendation.
And Joe and I instantly agreed with him in return. "The flavor's a classic, my friend. And 'sir's not really necessary, I'm not really that old." Joe comments, again, signifying the raw irony. "So, call me Joe."
Steve smiled, "thank you, sir- I, mean Joe."
"Thank you." I thank him.
Joe just chuckled, "no problem, Captain." He winked.
My eyes widen in surprise as he starts scooping out the ice cream in our cones. Joe knows if the person would rather have the cone or the ice cream in the cup. But that's not really how both of the pair of Steve and I's eyes widened in surprise. I guess everyone is too familiar to aliens spewing out of a portal in the middle of the Manhattan sky.
I turn to face Steve with a smirk, as he raised his eyebrows in reply.
Then, Joe has finished preparing our ice cream. "Neapolitan and cookie dough for Steve and Amelia!" He declares as we accept the delicious, I don't know, dessert?
"Thank you, Joe." Steve and I said in unison, Joe chuckling in response. "No problem, you young people. Enjoy your ice cream 'cause that'll be seven-fifty." Wow, way to lighten up the mood. Why can't ice cream be free?
I giggle as I reach for my small amount of money in my butt pocket, but Steve rested a hand on my arm before I could even reach the money, "lemme do the honors." He says with a smirk and a wink.
"Okay." I remark, because nobody gets to be 'gentlemanly' in twenty-twelve, my friend.
As soon as Steve pays for our ice cream, we head to a table. I softly nudge him with my elbow, "thanks, Cap."
"No problem, Doc." Okay then.
We sat on our seats, my tongue was about to start loving the Neapolitan, which was perfectly scooped out in all of its threesome wonders, until Steve decided to get talking. "Why Neapolitan?"
Simple. "Simply because it has the three original flavors. The Wonderful Threesome, as I would like to call it."
He let out a small, husky chuckle as he licks his cookie dough ice cream, "like this ice cream is just vanilla with cookie dough?"
There are three portions of my ice cream scoop, and my tongue landed on the strawberry. "It's not just vanilla with bits and pieces of cookie dough, Cap." I emphasize as I kept... Licking. "This place incorporates everything to make every distinct flavor not just 'vanilla with bits of cookie dough'. Just think a little deeper in what I've just said."
"But that's why you love Sweets' Parlor?"
"Yes. The one and only."
"How about other places?"
I pause for a moment as I favor the ice cream on my tongue and ponder, but came up with a simple and irrational explanation. "Other places may have an exception, but I haven't tried all of the places. How about you? Why vanilla?"
He scoffs, "first, it is the mother of all ice cream flavors," I nod because well, that is correct, "and second, ice cream and technically any 'sweet dessert' in the world was so scarce in the war, I really have no choice but to begin first with the original."
"But you were revived three years earlier. You would have time to check out the others, wouldn't you?"
We smirked, staring at me for a moment. "I guess I've just decided to stick with the original for a while."
My lips curl up into an even wider smile as he grinned, displaying his pearly whites. And at the same time, we licked our designated ice cream.
And I haven't forgotten that this is a date.
Let's play thumb wars.
"What?" Huh?
"Amelia, you just said 'let's play thumb wars'..." Steve reminded me one last time. Which was peculiar since I don't really say my thoughts aloud...
"Why not?" Then something hit me. "That is, do you know a thumb war slash thumb wrestle?"
Staring at me blankly, Steve slowly shook his head as he licked his ice cream. "Oh," I say as a smirk forms in my lips, "let's get to it. I'll teach you."
Chuckling, he responds, "okay."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Basically, we played thumb wars to get to know each other a little better. Besides during the Loki-mission, when we worked out in the SHIELD training arena together, or when I was... Yeah. But we obviously never excluded our precious ice cream during our little game.
Anyways, to do that, we "thumb wrestle" and if you won the match, you just easily ask a question to the loser.
Then you wrestle again for another match, and yeah. It just goes like that.
As stupid as it was, I don't even know why "thumb wrestling", or how significant this can do but hey, all I could think right now is that we fought together in an alien invasion.
Sure his muscly thumbs, to Steve Rogers there's definitely such thing, could squish mine but that's the thing about thumb wrestling: it's not like he's gonna break mine.
Be thankful it ain't like sparring on the hard, cold floor, bud.
Not significant but just ask yourself, why not?
"Turn offs?" I ask him as I devour the Neapolitan ice cream. "Basically things you don't find attracting in a person."
He thought about it for a moment, then finally reply, "narcissistic, arrogant ego. And false modesty." Steve licked his cookie dough ice cream, munching on a bit of cookie dough. "Everyone should appreciate themselves because they may not be perfect, but their unique in a way. They must understand that."
I smirk, "narcissistic, arrogant ego as in, Tony?"
He scoffs, "oh yeah."
"But what you seriously just said was thoughtful."
"Thank you."
~One thumb wrestling match later, Steve won~
"Okay, my turn!" He announces as he thought about what to ask. I stare at him pondering, then he let out a nervous exhale, "I hope you don't really mind me asking you this but, any past, significant lovers?"
I gulp. How can I tell him without him realizing its Bu--
"Um, well, there's him." I began while staring down at my ice cream, my fingers wrapped around the waffle cone. "He- his name, let's start with that. His name's," ugh, I'll just use his legit name. "James." My voice croaked. Shit.
His brows furrowed sadly, as he leaned back to his seat, avoiding my gaze. "I-I'm sorry. I think I shouldn't have asked..." But I knew it was his friend's name.
"Oh no!" I insist, "there's nothing wrong with answering the question, Cap."
He gave me a small, relieved smile. "All right."
I deeply sigh, honestly I don't mind telling him. With some partial lying, I have to confess. "I met him in, back in high school." Okay, that's partially right. "2004." Again, partially right.... "James... he's always stuck with me. I mean, of course there were others after I graduated and started working and studying for those doctorates and a place in the FBI forensics division," Stop rambling... "But the point is that..."
Steve finished the rest, "they stuck with you 'till the end." And that's what he'd say. "They'll never leave your mind."
Slowly nodding my head, I agree. "Yeah."
Then I continued talking about James. "As unlikely as it sounded, he always wanted to serve. Army." Once again, partially correct...
"Interesting."
"Yeah, but he..." I paused for a moment, but the person enjoying his ice cream before me just knew it. "I am sorry."
I shook my head, "there's no need. It happened like, the train accident, it happened like eight years ago." Again, partially correct.
"Still." He held on my hand, giving it a firm squeeze. I stare at his ocean blue eyes, Steve adds, "you'll never forget them."
I was silent for a moment as I leaned in, "how about you, Rogers?"
He let out a small, husky chuckle, "now, don't break the rules. A thumb wrestling match first."
I shook my head stubbornly, "ha, no. C'mon, just answer it. There's always someone way back." Even though I know who... I lean in, adding in a mutter, "I don't mind."
"Well..." He scratch the back of his neck, "there was, her..." I know.... "Her. She goes by Peggy. Peggy served her time alongside us."
"Who's in 'us'?" I ask back, forgetting the fact that we have to have a thumb wrestling match to ask another question.
"Family. They're not just friends. Family like Bucky Barnes, Howard Stark, Carolyn Peters..." Ahhhh!! Why? 45!! Steve sighs, "like how you described James, Peggy's name, face, attitude," laughing softly, "she'd stick with you."
Smiling, I raise our ice cream cones, "to our past lovers."
He raised his, "cheers to our passed lovers."
~More thumb wrestling matches and questions later~
"Tea or coffee?" Steve asks.
"Both."
~More thumb wrestling matches and questions and fully-devoured ice creams later~
"Okay, okay, this is like those weird and stupid questions about opportunity but, if you have an opportunity to change something in the past, what would it be? But..." Ha ha, stupid me.
"But?"
"Here's the catch. It should be something in your childhood, but not during the war, HYDRA, blah blah blah." Once I said the exception with the question, Steve says, "well, there was this one time..."
"And?" I wait.
"I was twelve." He scoffs, "I remember myself, the same old skinny weakling, defending these group of girls from these jerks." Interesting.
"These guys, they kept teasing and treating these girls rudely, obviously getting me mad about it. I just couldn't stand it, so I fought them off. But little did I know, with some of my best friend's help, they ran away like the cowards they always were.
After the fight, it turns out the girls watched the whole thing.
And the next thing I know, they made fun of me too." I frown.
"What do you want to change?" I ask.
He laughs it off, with that brave heart he always has. "Not letting Bucky fight them off with me. I would've fought those jerks off myself."
Grinning at his answer, instantly swooning with the independent Captain America. "If only those girls knew who you are inside. Not just the changes now."
"Well, I guess."
My face drops, "don't guess. It's legitimate."
Smirking, he held my hand. Prepping for another thumb wrestling match. "Now, let's see who'll ask the next question." He grins, resulting in mine growing larger.
~Thumb Wrestling matches later~
Steve won this time.
"Okay!" He rubs his hands together, as I anticipate his question. He finally decided to ask this one. "On a scale of one to America, how would you rate this date so far?"
I burst out laughing. That is an awesome scale.
"North America!" I exclaim so loud, Steve laughing along side me. Then I add, "lemme guess, Tony asked you to say the line."
"Actually," he rose up from his seat, stretching out his hand, "I made that one up myself." Grinning, I accept his hand as he adds, "there's somewhere else I'd like to bring you."
I then ask, "part two?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Steve drove the motorcycle to God knows where. With me as the passenger.
For me to approximate, I guess you could say he maneuvered the bike to our next destination in twenty to thirty minutes.
Long I know, but for once, I am unsure where we are heading for once as we went through bridges and across thick forests on the outskirts of the city. I wasn't much of an explorer outside the city of Washing DC. So, I guess you could call me being inactive through the four years I live close here. Did I mention I live like forty-five minutes away from DC? So technically I live in Arlington, Virginia?
But now that I can practically teleport, I guess transportation would be much easier from here on out. And I am off the topic.
The point it is, we 'chatted' in the ice cream shop for way too long. As the sun turns out to be almost setting indicating that Steve shall initiate phase two of this, date.
Finally, Steve parked. Again, parked at an edge of a forest, as it seems like. Removing my helmet, we hopped out of the bike.
The sky is at its array at the beauty it's bound to display. Steve offered a hand. "You know, if I asked you to close your eyes, you'd be too stubborn to close them anyways for this." Then he kisses my knuckles lightly, "although, too bad I can't really gaze at the beautiful hazels."
I rose my eyebrows at both satisfaction from this pick-up line and how he easily inserted that in. "What's up with you and pick-up lines now?" I remark as we start walking up the hill.
Laughing softly, he began explaining by completely avoiding the questioning remark. "Amelia, to begin, I found this hill while exploring present-day America. Technically almost three years ago.
I traveled down from Manhattan and began simply hiking slash riding the bike Fury provided me.
I didn't care where I would really end up at, but sooner than I thought I would be led through thick forests and over creeks to find this simple hill."
"So you went to DC to get to know the twenty-first century a little better?" I ask. Dang this is a big hill.
"Yeah," he agrees. "But anyways, I try staying active."
I scoff, "says the guy who has a metabolism who burns at rate four times faster than normal human beings."
Chuckling, he remarks, "lemme guess, you just read a lot?"
I nod, "yep."
And we are still climbing the hill. Steve continues explaining because I keep interrupting him. "Like I was saying, I enjoy the wilderness. Especially a safe cabin house that Fury introduced to me so I could ease my mind off of things since I was defrosted. (A/N: Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D Season 2, Skye went to the exact same cabin for a retreat. So sorry for the kinda spoiler alert, but I just wanna say.)
But, when I found this hill, I thought it could also help a lot better to ease my mind off of things." He smiled down at me from his tall frame, his pink lips curling into one.
As my left hand clutches onto Steve's right one, we finally arrived at the top of the abnormally tall hill. "Just in time," Steve lastly concludes his small introduction to phase two, as my eyes widen and my mouth suddenly gape to one of greatest masterpieces Mother Nature has to offer at the end of the day.
As typical as a sunset sounds, this time it won't sound too typical or cliche.
Because you gotta admit, sunsets, especially like this one, are never too typical. It was just simply mesmerizing. "Wow," I mumble ever so silently, it quieter than a whisper.
No words can't really describe this 'typical' sunset. Nothing can surpass its vivid and vibrant concluding sight that everyone rarely gets to see in their everyday lives. Like ours.
Like the busy lives of a hero, standing beside me who still has getting a lot used to the twenty-first century and swore to remain to the duty of keeping the world safe. Or me, where I almost lost my life to a single gunshot wound that can do wonders of danger and life sentence that I couldn't imagine. Like exemplifying an alien invasion.
A sunset, I imagine as the watercolor canvassing the vast, blue sky before it slips into a navy blue, where white sparkles evade it. Rays of the warmth of yellow, orange, red, clash into the cool blues and violets, make the perfect, 'typical' masterpiece. Couldn't help myself but we both sighed in synch and in delight at the wonderful view.
I stare back at the work of the sun setting, my hand in Steve's hand.
We watch as the largest star in the Milky Way galaxy set into the west.
Until gray, clouds erupted throughout. No. Way.
Both of us notice. "No. Way." Steve whispers in annoyance on what was totally unexpected to occur.
"No. Way." I mirror his phrase.
Then one by one, droplets slowly then quickly dispense from the cursed gray clouds. Both of us immediately look up.
"You've got to be kidding me." And I agree with Steve.
"Mother Nature never jokes around." I mumble back as I felt a droplet starts disrupting my sight. And my make up. Which is unimportant but is still necessary to mention. I hate rain. Unless you're inside and away from it.
With an exchanged look from each other, we sprinted down the hill.
With Steve's hand in mine, we ran down the hill as each droplet poured one by one. Then all at once.
Then I remembered I can technically transport me, myself, Steve, and I across space and distance instantly. All because of a ring in my finger. "Tell me your address!" I cry out. We both stop running as I feel my whole self, and Steve, getting soaked. Really soaked.
"Um, 1404 Alameda Ave, Brooklyn--"
And we are gone. Along with that bike of his.
What? Who would want to forget a Harley?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We ended up reappearing in a garage-place of some sort. "Whoa." Steve whispers incredulously, both of us soaking wet. He looked at me with a gaping mouth, then at his bike. Then he cleared his throat as he slowly straightened his stature. I did the same. "So. You-you brought us back to my apartment's garage..."
I eye the place warily. "Seems like it." Then I sneeze. But when I sneeze, I sneeze like a dying cow sneezing, yes sneezing, its last breath.
Steve chuckles lightly as his neatens up his soaked hair. I sneeze again and again. "Bless you." Without hesitation, he removes his leather jacket, lending it out to me. "Here," the jacket wraps around my shoulder.
Sniffling, I wrap it around tightly because honestly, the cold doesn't bother me, the summer heat doesn't bother me, but the rain? Oh, ho, I despise the rain. "Thank-thanks..."
He wraps his huge arms around me, hopefully thinking that he can stop me from shivering. "I got you. Any better?" I slowly shook my head, shivering. Letting out a laugh, we start walking to his apartment floor. "Its weird that the rain can bother you. Can't you just, you know--?"
"That's the thing. Rain really can, yeah." I feel so, disabled. Just, shivering and so soaking wet.
"Poor you." He remarks as I playfully glare at him.
"Hey, you've practically been frozen for like, seven decades," I retort.
We enter a not-so cramped elevator, people eyeing us. Steve lowered his voice, "oh yeah, what's the point in that?" He then pressed the button signaling the elevator to transport us to the 12th floor.
People around us eyed us with wary because we really are that soaking wet. "Huh. I don't know." I reply to Steve's remark.
"Exactly." He flipped his hair from one side, sprinkling some more water onto me.
"Hey!" I hissed at his teasing action. Wiping water out of my once-dried face.
Then I threw some snow. Some snow. "No! Too cold!" He yelps as he wipes some off from his sleeve.
As people disappeared from the elevator to their designated floors, along with grunts and groans in reaction against our immature ones, puddles are everywhere up to this point.
Once a middle-aged lady complained, the last person besides us on the elevator, Steve just apologized politely. Like this, "I apologize for the discrepancies ma'am, but-- Amelia!" I threw a snowball at his face from across the elevator.
The lady rolled her eyes as she exits the elevator on the eight floor, hopefully she did not notice the snow. I lightly snicker as I form one between my hands, getting bolder on the size on each one I form. The elevators slide closed as Steve starts cowering in a corner, "No no no no no no--!"
Then a massive snowball landed all over his face.
~12th floor~
With the jacket slung over his soaking body, Steve and I stood side by side as the elevator slides open leading to the 12th floor. My arms are wrapped around myself, still slightly shivering I admit. And Steve staring down at the puddles of the elevator floor, slightly embarrassed of the fact that I got him even more soaking wet from my snowballs. That sounded dirty for a second, but whatever.
We exit, both of our taking one last look at the soaking elevator. With a look from each other, we shrugged in silence.
Steve led the way as I followed him to his apartment door, finally stopping to one. Some oak brown paint chipping, gold numbers embedded state 220A. Oh ha ha ha ha ha...
He unlocked his apartment door, then let me enter first. Stepping inside, Steve trailed behind. He sighs, "welcome to my place." I sneeze. "Bless you."
Sniffling, I face a smiling Steve, "thank you. Nice place by the way." I notice the theme where his comfort lies to. Bookshelves line the room, with some empty shelves that are bound to be filled in the near future. As well as more shelves filled with CDs and DVDs and even records that he has collected the pass few years since he'd been defrosted.
As my fingers traced lightly against the hardback spines of books, from Charles Dickens to the romantic Nicholas Sparks, and some music albums from the classic Frank Sinatra to the emotionally talented Adele. My fingers stopped at a shelf, filled with picture frames. Old pictures.
I notice pictures that include the smiling faces of Bucky Barnes, Peggy Carter, Howard Stark, even the famous Colonel Chester Phillips. Along with the flirtatious Private Lorraine, and the charismatic Dum Dum Dungan. Even the loyal yet serious Jim Morita, the optimistic Gabe Jones, the skilled yet reckless Jacques Dernier, and the humorous James Falsworth. My eye also caught a picture of the pre-serum Steve Rogers with the famous Abraham Erskine himself.
As well as the beautiful and inspiring photo of the late Sarah Rogers, Steve's beloved mother. Along with his father too, whom is smiling with glee with his loving wife, Joseph Rogers.
But I stared harder at a photograph, at her. Carolyn Peters. Especially her.
Reasons behind the deliberation of these remarkable people has been mentioned several times.
Smiling sadly at their faces, a small tear shed down my wet cheek.
I picked up the photo with Bucky carrying Carolyn bridal-style, the photo filled with a happiness that is rarely achieved. Stroking the frame, their laughter echoes in my mind.
Steve stood beside me, watching me stare at these photo with intent. "Yeah. They were so happy." He says every so quietly as I return the picture frame back to its usual spot on the shelf. I rest my head on his shoulder.
We stood in silence, but my arms snaked around Steve's masculine torso and hugged him tightly as he were my teddy bear.
I bury my face onto his chest, his arms returning the favor. "I'm so sorry that you had lost these people." I say against his broad chest.
He sighs, "its not really anybody's fault, Amelia."
I scoff as I look up, "well, its HYDRA's fault."
Steve stared down at me, smirking slightly, "you just read a lot, don't you?"
Smiling back, I peck his cheek sweetly. I let go as I began walking away. Besides, I gotta go home--
"You leaving?"
Turning back around, I shrug, "I guess." Relieving those memories had gotten me into this vibe... A not so happy one.
Steve shook his head as he walks towards me. Holding my hands, he kissed my forehead. "C'mon. All I can offer is coffee after a ruined sunset."
I shook my head, "its fine." He frowned, making my heart tear a little piece away. Rolling my eyes playfully, I give in. "Fine. Coffee does help a lot."
His face lit up as he unexpectedly leaned in, and our lips connected. Electricity sprang through me, as he cup my cheek.
A moment passed as our lips apart, because of lacking this thing called oxygen. Steve smiled as I look back at him, speechless. "I can tell." He winks, making me turn a little pink.
He walks away, "I'll lend you some clothes and a towel to dry you up, okay?"
"Okay!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Steve lend me his button-up shirt, which I swear is like this over-sized dress because it reached towards mid-thigh, and a towel. I decided to leave my honestly-not-so-soaked jeans on.
With the towel in my hand, I undo the hairstyle I wore today, leaving in this damp mess. Damn you stupid rain. And snow. But the snow part isn't really stupid.
Anyways, I start combing my hair with my fingers, then drying it with the towel now that I feel a little warmer.
Steve exits the room newly clothe, in an attire which is really new. A wool sweater (duh like what kind of sweater isn't wool or woolly or basically like fluffy cotton) and plaid pajamas pants. I guess what's different is that its more... Modern.
Coffee bring people together. As Steve offered, we drank warm coffee as it turns out Washington DC isn't the only place in the east where sunny skies won't appear. Brooklyn poured heavily as well and as said, warm coffee will always help in one way or another.
Chatting was brief, but we were somewhat silent. Silent in a comfortable silence.
I sigh deeply...
~Third Person's POV~ (Finally!!)
Steve smiles with warmth at Amelia when she yawned, tired even after just drinking caffeine like a while ago.
With a thought in his mind, he headed to his CD/DVD player. Inserting a recording of the famous song "Paper Doll" by the Mills Brothers in the CD slot.
The sweet, guitar tune woke up Amelia from the brink of slumber. Steve walked over to her, then lend out a hand like a prince. "May I have this dance?" She grinned, as after all, it could be his chance of redeeming his dance.
"You may." She replies, bowing and accepting his hand. Him laughing at how regal they begun for an informal dance.
I'm gonna buy a paper doll that I can call my own
A doll that other fellows cannot steal...
Sure, neither of them can't dance. But with the classic arm around her waist, hand in each other's hand, and her head resting on his chest, they slowly swayed at the slow, intro tune. Her listening in synch with the music and his steady heartbeat.
With each other carefully avoiding any clumsy action.
And then the flirty, flirty guys
With the flirty, flirty eyes
Will have to flirt with other dollies
That are real
When I come home at night she will be waiting
She'll be the truest doll in all this world
I'd rather have a paper doll
To call my own
Than have a fickle-minded, real-live girl
Then comes the upbeat, where the dancing could be picked up a notch.
Amelia smirked as she gazed up the the tall height of the super soldier, alarming Steve. Of what the Legacy will do next.
I guess I had a million dolls or more...
Amelia stood with a straighter stature as she wrapped both arms around Steve's neck. With a nod, he signaled her to follow his lead.
She grinned ever so radiantly as she twirled whilst ahold of his hand. Him smiling along.
I guess I had a million dolls or more
I guess I've played the doll game o'er and o'er
I just quarrelled with Sue, that's why I'm blue
She's gone away and left me just like all dolls do
I'll tell you boys, it's tough to be alone
And it's tough to love a doll that's not your own
I'm through with all of them
I'll never ball again
Say boy, whatcha gonna do?
With arms more outstretched, they swayed with more excitement.
I'm gonna buy a Paper Doll that I can call my own
A doll that other fellows cannot steal
And then the flirty, flirty guys with their flirty, flirty eyes
Will have to flirt with dollies that are real
When I come home at night she will be waiting
She'll be the truest doll in all this world
I'd rather have a Paper Doll to call my own
Than have a fickle-minded real live girl
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
HELLO EVERYONE, IM FINALLY BACK! HAVENT UPDATED IN LIKE THREE WEEKS! YEAH I KEEP TRACK...
I WAS BUSY WITH PRISON(SCHOOL) AS THEY DOUBLED THE WORK THEY HAVE TO OFFER. AND PLUS IVE BEEN INVOLVED WITH FRIENDS AND EXTRA- CURRICULUM STUFF TOO. ESPECIALLY HALLOWEEN, CONSIDERING THE FACT THAT I DRESSED UP AS THE HEATH LEDGER JOKER THAT KNIGHT. (LOOK AT THAT I MADE A PUN XD)
ANYWAYS, IM QUITE EXCITED FOR SOME EVENTS I PLANNED BUT I AM MORE THAT DETERMINED TO FINISH THIS BOOK. BOTH EDITING AND FINISHING.
AS YOU CAN SEE, I AM HORRIBLE WITH WRITING DATES. HEH. I GUESS I JUST NEED MORE EXPERIENCE? IDK.. PEACE, LOVE, SINGLE PEOPLE.
BUT I JUST LOVE PAPER DOLL. ITS REALLY THOSE 40s SONGS I LOVE AS WELL AS THE MILLS BROTHERS OTHER CREATIONS WITH MUSIC.
WHILE NOT UPDATING, STILL PRAYING FOR THAT CIVIL WAR TRAILER.
AND HOPES THAT (**SPOILER ALERT!!**) THE COMICS WAYYY
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CAP DOESNT REALLY DIE
AND SHARON NEVER SHOT HIM WHILE UNDER A HYDRA DOCTOR'S SPELL
THAT THE QUARREL IS JUST LIKE "HEY LETS BE BEST BUDS AGAIN. BUD"
YEAH. SOMETHING LIKE THAT.
ANYWAYS... HOPE YOU ENJOYED A SMALL, EFFORTLESS DATE.
AND ENJOYED IMAGINING STEVE IN A WOOL SWEATER WITH PLAID PAJAMA PANTS AND FUZZY SOCKS FOR MEN.
ALSO WHICH REMINDS ME ABOUT THE THUMB WARS PART. TO EXPLAIN ITS FROM THE SECOND PRINCESS DIARIES WITH ANNE HATHAWAY, CHRIS PINE, AND JULIE ANREWS (I LOVE THESE PEOPLE). REMEMBER WHEN MIA SNUCK OUT INTO THE MIDNIGHT WITH NICHOLAS AND THEY WERE UNDER THAT TREE AND THUMB WRESTLING WHILE TALKING MORE ABOUT THEMSELVES? YEAH I JUST SOMEHOW REMEMBERED THAT SMALL PART OF THAT SCENE.
ANYWAYS,
VOTE,
COMMENT ON WHAT YOUVE THINK SO FAR,
AND STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT PART MON AMI!!!
~ACOUSTIC QUIVER c: