Those Bright Blue Eyes
She waited.
It wasn't like she had anything better to do with her time. Being a courageous young woman of, say, 22, had its ups and downs. There were many ups, countless ups, numerous ups. Yet Peggy let herself drown in one, dismal negative down.
He was late.
Even Peggy Carter couldn't kid herself that Steve Rogers would turn up. He was always late for something anyway, and this was no exception.
No. She couldn't hold on to him much longer.
She had to go out. Explore the world as did he. That's what he would've wanted her to do, anyway, with or without him.
So why was she spending her valuable time in the same exact pub she saw Steve in, after the death of Bucky?
She'd never know. She never wanted to, either.
Her red dress clung to her young figure comfortably. She wished that she hadn't agreed to Steve's rain check. It only caused her to grow hope, and too much hope could be dangerous.
She missed him. Sometimes, very rarely, Peggy would talk to thin air and pretend that he was there. Pretend that whatever charade she was playing was real. Pretend that his presence still lingered. Because Peggy knew all too well that Steve just wasn't the one to back out without a fight.
What happened to that scrawny, asthmatic kid that couldn't run half a mile without having some sort of panic attack? What happened to his weak limbs and skinny stature? His personality; had it changed at all?
Peggy decided that she didn't care. Steve Rogers was many things. She didn't give a damn if he was as skinny as a bone, or as buff as three soldiers put together. She didn't care, for she knew that he was still the same old Steve.
The one who liked drawing.
The one who thought "fondue" was something of a sexual reference.
The one who she, un regrettably, kissed without a second thought.
The one who didn't know how to dance.
Peggy felt a pang in her chest. The alcohol- it was too much. It reminded her too much of him. Is this what it felt like? Losing someone you cared about alot? The knowing fact that they'd possibly never come back?
Hesitantly, Peggy pushed the glass of gin away and sighed. She stood up, careful not to crumple or ruin her red dress. She scanned the room, hoping to find a certain blonde that did justice to bother America and her heart.
No such luck.
Chuckling lightly, Peggy made her way home, her posture unscathed as always.
Once she was back in her roomy, basic home, she collapsed.
The memories started flooding in. The kiss... The way she felt betrayed after seeing him kiss that blonde girl. It pained her, the strict lip line showing nothing but remorse at the time.
Peggy leaned her head back, shutting her eyes closed while taking deep and even breaths.
She tried to imagine him.
Those pale, sparkly blue eyes.
That determined, soldier-like look.
The way he gave orders out, had so much faith in everything and everyone.
Suddenly Peggy was back, back to when Steve was still skinny and undeniably weak. She watched as he struggled to do push-ups, struggled to run the extra mile. Those eyes were the things that captivated her the most, though.
Peggy tore herself away from her daydreams, feeling the silent sob that was about to make its way up her throat.
"You'll see him again," she told herself, swallowing her fear and forgetting that it was ever there. "He'll come back to you."