So I found an old Romanogers fic piece I wrote forever ago. Enjoy!
It was time to move on, Nat had been made and she couldn't stay here anymore. She had everything she needed in her bag, like it always was. Everything she needed to start new at her fingertips, but the letter wasn't going with her.
She stalked Steve's apartment until she watched him roar off on that motorcycle of his. Climbing up the fire escape with the shadows so not to be seen was cake. The people in this neighborhood weren't exactly vigilant, Nat didn't understand why Steve fought to stay here but once she was inside the window she kind of got it. He had nested. Everywhere you looked inside his apartment was a little extension of himself. Unlike any place she had lived. Pictures and books lined his walls, books about aviation and electricity. Next to those was a shelf full of shiny nick-nacks. A small silver statue of liberty stood next to a bunch of tiny spiral notebooks that Nat remembered seeing Steve carry around with him everywhere. She longed to reach out and touch his things but she knew he would notice if things were slightly off. She opened her bag and pulled out the wine bottle and letter and sat them next to an open sketchbook. She opened the bottle of wine and took a gulp.
Her curiosity got the best of her, this was the last she would get of him. She wanted to see what he saw. She had seen him drawing when he thought no one was looking but she never expected him to be this good. His sketches were surreal, all that time in the ice had not stifled his creativity. Most of it was scenery, places he had been, but then the faces peered up at her. Nick Furry and all his rage, Thor's majestic lion mane, and Phil. Phil took her breath away and then she turned the page. A beautiful women stared back at her. The girl from the picture in the bunker that had made Steve stop in his tracks. Nat had known then that she was more than what he admitted. She was his could have been... Being a spy Nat understood that.
She had to leave, every sense in her body told her to stand up and crawl baçk out the window but she turned the page. She ran her fingers over the unfinished drawing of her. It wasn't just a portrait but a full picture of her. In this book she could delve into Steve's mind and here she was with the rest of them.
The book dropped from her hands as she grabbed a pistol out of the holster on her hip. The blue, red, and white shield was inches away from her face when Steve pulled back. She blamed the wine for her dulled reflexes. His eyes were locked on and hers while she lowered her gun. The silence between them tangible, she had wanted to be out of here before he came back. Steve had a tendency to change her plans, even the well laid out ones.
“What are you doing here Nat?" He asked setting his shield against the nearest wall. She crouched down and fixed his sketch book before placing it on the table next to the empty bottle of wine. "You left, disappeared Nat. Clint has been going crazy looking for you."
"He knows better than that.” She said with a shrug of her shoulders as she looked around at her surroundings again.
"What are you doing here Nat?" He asked again. She saw all the hurt in his eyes, heard it in his voice. It was slight but she caught it, like she caught everything. How had she missed what had been staring her in the face. She shouldn't have come here.
She shook her head and said nothing as she made her way towards the window. Steve reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her before she could escape him.
"I'm going to need an answer before you go." He said staring down at her.
"Do you think of me?" She was completely off her game with those blue eyes burrowing into her skin. He let her go, taken back by her question. It was suddenly very important for her to know the answer before she left. "Its an easy question Cap'n. Do you think about me?" She echoed. His eyes shot to the sketch book and the page she was on. Her black and white double stared at the both of them. There was betrayal in his eyes, Nat knew she had crossed a line, but what else did she have to do.
"Sometimes." He admitted his eyes down cast.
