Eventually, a lady had to stop looking for a man. That worked on several levels, all of which were very true if not hinting at a smidge of bitterness. Peggy had spoken to all of the familiar faces at the party, encountered a few new ones, and had still ultimately been unable to locate Steve at all in any of the crowd below. She'd possibly indulged a few more drinks than was entirely necessary during her quest, but having a glass in hand always made it so much easier to move around, to pretend she was haring off after a tray of jewel-toned beverages or little canapés she'd no intention of eating.
After seeing some other guests struggle so with their stomachs, she'd no intention of losing the rainbow she'd ingested over the evening's duration. It would clash dreadfully with her dress, never mind how embarrassing it would be. Bad enough she'd nearly run over not one but two victors earlier. That sort of thing was well and good with tributes (only in a metaphorical way), but she tried to avoid it after they'd survived and gone on to be (mostly) functional members of society. Fame bought insulation from the likes of bossy escorts, didn't it?
Unless you were Steve, anyway. He would never shake Peggy's concern, or her need to check up on him when things seemed to be going awry.
She'd ventured to his room after determining there was literally nowhere else he might be. That was assuming he hadn't left the property altogether, which. He better not have, if he knew what was good for him. In the elevator Peggy had shed her heels, looping the straps over her fingers and reducing her height by several inches, and she rapped loudly at the door in the hopes of waking him had he already crawled into bed. Rude, perhaps, but necessary for her peace of mind.
What she had not accounted for was the possibility of a shower. Peggy's lips, pursed and ready for chastising Steve on his vanishing on her, parted on a quick, startled breath... and that was exhaled on a flustered, "Oh! I... ah. You really needn't..." Good grief, that towel was covering less than the spandex and paint had earlier. Blushing, her gaze dropped, jerked up again (hello, eyes, yes, eyes were safe and blue and very intent on her), and landed somewhere to the left of his ear. "I was worried when I couldn't find you."
There. Safe and true and not a comment on how he was even less dressed now than the last time she'd seen him.