21. Your muse attempts to shove away mine.
He's only seen her cry once before - Fury's 'death'.
They weren't that close back then, but now, he was more than aware of his temptation to lock his solid (and safe) arms around the smaller woman, and provide her that comfort she should've gotten from him long ago.
This time, when Nat cried, it wasn't the single, silent tear. It was pain ripping through her little body, quite literally destroying her and Steve needed to be that rock for her. Damn it, he did.
But she kept refusing him.
Denying him.
He touches her shoulder, she slaps his hand away. He begs with her - "Nat, please" - and she screams something incomprehensible but that resembles all the agony storming up inside.
He can't deal with this, he can't help her if she doesn't let him, because he's hurting to see her like this.
He finally takes her by the arm and aggressively reels her into him, soft, womanly curves against a hard wall of muscle. His arms roughly wind their ways around her petite form and he buries his face into her neck, muttering sweet nothings, promising it'll be alright- that he'll protect her. And he tries to kiss her tear-stained cheek... it will be okay, he'll make her happy again.
But Natasha, using all of her strength and vigor, pushes against Steve's broad chest. She doesn't want his help, or his love, and it kills him to know this.
