PARIS, FRANCE
Post-Ultron, Steve and I, at last, found the time to be by ourselves for an entire weekend. It was a celebration for a year of being together officially. We spent the first day exploring the city and visiting different book stores. I let him draw me a few times throughout the day.
That night, in the middle of the night, when few people were around, Steve and I sat on the grass in front of the Tower. Sharing a blanket, we sat close, eating our share of chocolate covered strawberries.
"The view is gorgeous, isn't it?" I breathed.
"From where I am, yeah," said Steve.
I glanced to him. He was laying on his back, an arm under his head. His view included the Eiffel Tower, but more importantly, to him, I was the view.
"You're silly," I said, laying my head on his chest. I had never been more content.
"Hey, Clara?"
"Hey, Steve?"
"You went to see Peggy."
I shoved a strawberry into my mouth to avoid answering at first. I pondered avoiding the answer. He stared at me, eyebrow raised. I couldn't deny it. With my mouth full, I nodded.
"What did you two talk about?"
"She told me it was obvious," I said sheepishly. "She said that it was, 'in my eyes.'"
"That what was in your eyes?" he asked.
I stared at him. "Steve, you might be as clueless as a doorknob."
"I was never very good with women," he admitted.
"Look, can I tell you something?" I asked.
"Of course."
"I don't have a lot of memories with my parents. I know fragments, I know stories of them. One thing I do remember is my mother telling me what she called the true tragedy of being in love."
"Which would be what?" he wondered.
"She said, once you fall in love, never again is your heart inside of your chest. Your heart is with the person you love, it is the person you love," I told him. I raised my head to look at him. "and, for me, that person is you."
"You love me?" asked Steve, eyes wide.
"I love you," I confirmed.
Steve's face fell. "I-I-I've heard that before," he recalled.
"Uh. Oh, um..." I said awkwardly, scooting away.
"Say it again."
"I love you?"
Steve turned his body to face me entirely. He encased my hands in his own, staring into my eyes to emphasize whatever he was about to tell me. "Clara, listen, all this time, all these years, there's been a mystery following me. There was this woman, back in the forties, who popped up a few times when I was being subjected to the serum. She never showed her face, all I ever heard was her voice. The last time I heard her was before I went in the ice. She told me she loved me."
"Props to unknown woman who ruined my confession," I muttered angrily.
"Oh," said Steve, shaking his head, "oh, no, I love you. I love you, too."
"You're terrible with women," I chuckled.
"So I've been told," he admitted, pausing for a brief moment. He dropped the subject of the former woman, and continued, "I do, though. I hope you know that. I'm thankful for you everyday. I don't know how to ever thank you for everything. Saying that I love you seems to sum it up well."
My gaze centered on the beautiful structure in front of us. "I know how you could repay me for ruining the moment, I guess."
"Yeah?" he asked.
"Kiss me at the top of the tower?" I suggested.
"That I can do," agreed Steve, kissing me then, and saving another for later when we portal-jumped to the Tower.