[She doesn't push him away, doesn't even tense up at the embrace. Maybe it's too quick, maybe she's too off balance to have the time to realise what he's doing before he's already pulled away. Somehow she doesn't have it in her to tell him off for it, either - all he gets is a somewhat lost look as he disengages.
He's warm.
Despite the lost look, there's something hard in her tone when she speaks:]
Don't say that.
[She rises, takes a few steps away, her back turned to him. That he pulled away so quickly is perhaps ensurance enough that he doesn't plan on touching her again, but be that as it may, she needs to compose herself. She won't allow herself to cry openly.]
I realise war is unforgiving, and what's happened can't be changed, but... don't call it okay. [His sisters, his mother, Captain Rogers... things are never going to be okay for anyone who loves him. And for him to be so at peace with his own death... it's not right, either. The snow keeps falling.]