Peggy Carter is (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} ex_determine89) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} rooms, |
"Steve! You're alright. You're alright." Peggy was unabashedly in tears already, practically strangling Steve with a hug scented in sandalwood, roses and gunpowder. She was entirely off her feet due to his height, and her heels were coming loose off the edges of her seams. When she finally peeled back enough to look at him, her dark eyes were a little smudged with soggy makeup, but her red smile was flawless as she beamed. Too overjoyed that he had come back from his early grave, she pressed a damp cheek once more to his before slowly releasing her grip and settling down again on the flat of her heels. She had to wiggle a bit to get into them properly.
"Go on with you." She squeezed his woolen sleeve. "If I'm late, it's your fault." She self-consciously brushed her palms all the way down the front of her dress, straightening the print that was already asymmetrical to begin with. "I didn't have a spare set of things in the future." She stepped backward and trod on his hat. Flustered, she looked down. "Oh! I'm sorry." Bending, she plucked it up from under her heel, and retrieved her bag at the same time, obviously trying to put herself back together after the effusive display.
Tucking her purse under her elbow, where she would no doubt drop it again, she pressed his hat into his hands and then made a pretense of adjusting his tie while she blinked her eyes back into focus. "Look at you, very smart." It was odd seeing him in monochrome, no green or blue. "Did you get an invitation too?"