Stark Tower: Peggy C/Steve R
[Steve had his hand out—reaching for his coffee pot as it whistled on the stove, even as the day drew toward its close. He was lost, somewhere in his mind, when the minute hand that had all but stopped his life a few hours before, continued around the face of the clock, like nothing had ever happened, ticking to the 7. The wrap of knuckles on his door jarred him and he accidentally sent his groping fingers into the heated metal of the pot, searing the tips.
The man swore, something far more colorful than usual—something from the war.
He didn't look good today. It wasn't exhaustion, but injury. Steve had healed, lightyears faster than another man might, but slower than he wanted. Bullets to the gut, Soviet, no rifling, a jagged slice to the shoulder, those were the worst of it, lingering long after the split in his cheek, the bruised yellow of his eye, and even the bone-shattering impact of falling from such a height. The run he'd gone on early hadn't helped, and now, standing in the evening dimness of his rooms, the ones that looked exactly as they had a year before when he'd ...disappeared, he was pale, his blond hair wet from the shower and limp against his forehead.
His body had changed, just a bit, in the time he'd been gone—him and his mind seemed to be the only things that had changed. A year, and he'd been working with SHIELD as a soldier who acted like a spy, and his bulk had sharpened some. He looked a little older, harder maybe. Sweatpants, a t-shirt—he was more comfortable now in modern clothing, if only just, and it showed in the way the manmade fabrics sat on his bones.
Steve opened the door and the smile he gave Peggy brought life back to him. He'd missed her, he'd missed her more than he ever had before. He'd seen her... in the nursing home... He couldn't think about that. In his rush of affection for the present moment, the man didn't notice the lack of lipstick. He just came forward and wrapped his arms around Peggy, his cheek against her hair, nose tucked toward her.] I—[He couldn't even say anything. He just took her hands in his and drew her inside, into the home that was stranger to him once again.]