Entry tags:

active: steve rogers

who steve & diana
what date night
where darcy's selected greek restaurant
when after this
warnings with these cinnamon rolls? doubtful. will change if needed etc

Dating remained something of a foreign concept to Diana. She had seen movies, read a multitude of books on the subject, and overheard coworkers at the museum chatting about them. She had never been on one herself, not really, unless one counted dancing with her Steve during the war. That was as close as she had ever been with a man, Steve Trevor. She was staring at the photograph of him that Bruce had given her before even coming to Goodland, one she had kept close in every capacity: Diana and the so-called Wonder Men.

Being trapped by the past, whether the war or the eighties, she knew it was a difficult vice to break. From what she had learned about Steve Rogers, he shared a similar struggle. She liked to believe it was part of what had drawn her to him and Bucky in the first place, a group of people frozen in a period of time long since lost. They struggled in the present, but coped. She had lived through it, but in isolation. Could that even be considered living at all?

So, the loss of the person who had been the first to call her out on that tendency was a blow. She could and would handle it, but sought distractions. The last thing she had expected was it to come in the form of Steve, who had been seemingly avoiding her like the plague, to ask her out. She was incredibly fond of him, admired him greatly, so for him to consider her in that regard--well, touched didn't begin to cover it. Beyond that, Diana had never thought of anyone romantically. In some ways, she thought it would always be Steve. Bearing a demigoddess heart had its drawbacks, humans learned to let go; the gods never really could.

Still, there was enough Amazon in her that she could learn--and she wanted to. So, she donned a simple, but elegant white dress and let her hair down in waves over her shoulders. Staring at herself in the mirror, she smiled at the prospect of the night. It would be difficult not to look back on that picture when they returned home and feel guilty, but that was a worry for later.

For now, she could try to concentrate on the presence and the little bit of excitement going out with him granted her.

Fully dressed, she emerged from the room, a clutch purse to match her dress in hand. Peering about for any sign of him, she stood in the doorway of her room in a temporary state of anxiety until she saw him emerge and sighed in relief.

"Is this alright...?" She asked, gesturing to her dress.