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STEVE DID not know what he was doing there. Natasha had patted his shoulder with a meaningful look before she went back to the tower to eat dinner by herself. Thus, Steve stood alone outside your door, unable to ring the doorbell. You, Steve, and Natasha were the only three left at the compound while the others were out on various missions. You had announced you would be cooking at the apartment you kept outside of the tower, should Steve and Natasha wish to join you.
Now, Steve was standing outside the door to your apartment. Going to dinner. With you. Alone. Natasha wasn't even going to be there to keep his subtle ways of flirting with you in check, and he knew that was exactly why she was microwaving pizza back at the tower for dinner. She was very forward, and she was hoping Steve would be motivated to act the same after spending an evening alone with you. Steve was more concerned that you weren't interested and that he would make an ass out of himself because there was no way Captain America could go a night without kissing the girl of his star spangled dreams.
He rubbed his eyes, exasperatedly letting out a sigh before he darted his finger to the doorbell before he could change his mind. A tinkling of metal and loud footsteps came in anticipation of the door sliding open. You stood there, hair streaked in flour and a spatula in one hand.
"Stevie! So glad you could make it! I'm not quite done yet, mind helping me out?" He cursed himself for imagining cuddly kitchen scenes. Licking the frosting off of a spoon you offered him, holding out a spoonful of soup for you to try. When you burned your tongue on it he'd come to your rescue with ice water. Such thoughts made his cheeks burn and he forced them down with a smile.
"I'd love to," he nodded his head as only Captain America could, making you smile brightly back and lead him into the kitchen for a homemade, candlelit dinner for two...
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WORD COUNT
352