amazonianichor:
@relentless-perplexity
"May I buy you a drink?"
The words curled warm and teasing over Diana's tongue as she stepped up behind Steve in the coffeeshop, just-barely late. But he'd always been more punctual than she had, so she figured he wouldn't mind three and a half minutes too terribly. Presuming, of course, that he hadn't arrived early.
Diana removed her sunglasses to better see him, not wanting the blue of his eyes muted. "I'm sorry I'm late," she said, a hand sliding towards his, fingers lacing through. "I hope you weren't waiting long?"
It had been a long weekend spent upstate, one of those feeble attempts to navigate awkward family dynamics created by the Snap. He could write a book, a how-to-guide detailing things like how to not completely abandon your nephew without also sparking the latent jealousy of your brother-in-law. An unsuccessful work in progress. And so Steve hummed, something relieved, body relaxing at the first sound of the familiar voice.
Automatically, he squeezed the hand that found his before removing his baseball cap, not wanting to accidentally catch Diana’s eye when he leaned in to steal a kiss. Usually he avoided such blatant displays in public (even if it was just to the cheek), but this offered him the opportunity to drop the hat onto Diana’s head, playfully tapping the worn Air Force logo as he pulled back.
Steve tried not to worry, but …
A harried barista called for Colonel Trevor and Steve grinned. “Just in time, actually.” He knew her favorites well enough that he could at least properly order the usual (even when he privately referred to it as one of her fancy drinks). Still, juggling two cups and a bag of assorted sweets, he purposefully extended the wrong hand and, with an air of faux innocence, asked: “You like black coffee, right?”
