she thanks him, but it doesn't sit right with steve. it's a cordial gesture that he knows she means – but he'd barely done the bare minimum. she'd apologized, too, reaching forward to brush his hair behind his ear. the touch felt wrong, unjustified, undeserving. even as she thanks him he can't bring himself to say anything, only nods slowly and pulls his eyes down and clears his throat uncomfortably. she leaves the car and he tucks his chin down and wipes his hands on his jeans. the phantom warmth of her hand lingers at his ear. steve blinks his eyes away from the daze he'd been stuck in and pushes through the car door, away from the staled air that held all the words they'd thrown at each other. his knees feel the tension the most when he straightens, and he twists to shake his limbs out and shuts the car door. it's more tentative, quieter, oddly conscious of every sound he's making now.
he meets her at the trunk, where she's already one step ahead of him as always. steve doesn't notice that she'd returned the keys into his pocket, only the weight against his thigh bringing him back to where she had been, but she's already withdrawn. steve takes the beer, then the other bags she hands him, and with his mouth pressed in a straight line he nearly runs into her when she stops abruptly at the car window. she's trying to cover things up again. even with the jabs at her appearance, and how it really is his fault she'd been crying so much nearly the entire ride home, her tone gives away something neutral that doesn't have too much of a bite. it makes him sad, to see her like this. to see how she so quickly maneuvers around her emotions for the sake of not only the others, but for him.
all he sees are beautiful blue eyes, swollen because of his doing. steve forces a tight, closed smile, but it's not too convincing. he knows it, by the heaviness he still feels in his chest that only breaks when she calls him sailor and he leans down to set down the bags, carefully placing the beer on the ground. steve loosens his shoulders and lets out a puff of air through his nose. ❛ c'mere, ❜ he moves toward her and takes the bags from her hands. his movements are rather quick after he meets her eyes, because if they aren't she'll see the way his own tears have started to form.
steve wraps his arms around her frame, guiding her head to tuck into his chest as he folds his body around hers. he wants to say more, to say again how much of an idiot he knows he's been, how he would never want to see someone treat her like he's treated her. the words get caught in his throat and he goes with something else. ❛ you still look beautiful, ally, ❜ he swallows, his voice threaded with guilt and sorrow and shame for everything she had just brought to light. it feels weird now, pulling her into a hug – he wants to give her the distance she probably inevitably deserves but all the while he knows how much they both value each other's touch and he'd spent the entire car ride not even giving her eye contact. he feels the way his hands have steadied with her touch, the way she still smells of bonfire and lake water even though he knows she likely did all she could to rid herself of last night.
when he pulls away, he turns down to the ground to pick up the bags she'd been holding before she can reach for them. steve takes a step to the others he'd set down and threads them through his arm so he can grab the beer as well. ❛ if it makes you feel better, nearly everyone in there probably already knows what's going on. and they know the both of us enough to know it's my fault. ❜ he'd gotten that much from the looks max had given her, and the way robin's eyes started to shift from the two of them and start to become a little more judgmental towards the information steve had shared about him and ally. she'd challenged him before on it, but now he knows she's starting to put more of the pieces together and realize just how fucked up steve's decision to leave this morning had been.
he brushes her shoulder to silently suggest they walk up together. he doesn't step ahead, doesn't move until she does and she shows that she's ready to go in. if she needed more time, he's now more than okay to stand out here and do what he can to help her reset before they go inside. he shrugs and gives a weak smile to himself – he's starting to notice it's a bit more difficult to look her in the eyes and see in them how he's hurt her. how can you comfort someone when you aren't even sure how to fix the wounds you've opened? or, reopened for that matter. he's noticed so much in her behavior recently that he's curious if or when they'll be able to get into it, to hear more about her side than he's allowed come out in conversation about their pasts. ❛ but if anyone asks, we can blame me. everyone knows i'm not the most efficient person. ❜
