The first five people to like this will get a drabble. ♥
Steve was quiet for a long time. He wasn't the only person in the room and he was acutely aware of that, just like he was aware of the fact that all he had to do was say something. Anything. Casual statement, a question, an observation. Anything that would break the silence would be better than the quiet. And he was still aching. He knew he probably wouldn't be the only one -- absolutely wouldn't be the only one. And he just stayed quiet, the echo of everything that had been happening only hours before, starting to fade away. the fight had been loud and harsh and jarring, and it was done. He was quiet.
One shift of his foot had him startling, pushing himself up into a seated position before fixing a look at Clint. Then, abruptly, Steve pushed himself up and blew out a breath. He walked over toward the man and gently nudged the edge of his seat with his knee. "Come grab a bite with me?" He wasn't sure it was the promise of a broken quiet in another room, but he knew he didn't want to be alone. More than that, he knew he didn't feel alone. "I'm paying," he joked, seeing as how he was headed toward the kitchen.