When Steve had finished the drawing, he held it up proudly. It really was his best picture yet.
"What's that?" someone said behind him.
Steve looked up to see Tasha standing above him, her hands on her hips and skirt covered in mud.
"Nothing," Steve said, his face heating. He tried to hide the picture, but Tasha was too fast. She snatched it out of his hands and skipped a few steps back. "Hey, give it back!" Steve stood in a rush, knocking his crayons from his lap across the grass.
"All you do is draw," she said, looking at the picture. "It's boring." She pursed her lips for a moment.
"Can you please give it back?" Steve tried again.
"Is that me?"
Steve felt ready to wet his pants. "Yeah."
Natasha looked at the picture again. "Can I keep it?"
"But-"
"I'll marry you if you do."
Steve thought about that. "You can keep it."
"Thanks." She ran off, the picture clutched in her hand.
"Stop fidgeting," Steve said. He sketched in her lower thigh. "You're making this harder than it needs to be."
He caught her rolling her eyes. "This is a favor for you," Natasha said. "I'm not a paid model."
"And my grade thanks you." The curve of her back still wasn't right.
"You'll give me the drawing after it's graded right?"
"As always."
"Good."
He continued to sketch her. He was just detailing her hands when Natasha stood up. "I said don't-"
"Shut up, Steve." She swung her legs over Steve's, settling herself on his lap, and kissed him.
Steve floundered for a moment before wrapping his arms around her. His hands were covered in charcoal, and he was getting it all over her back, but Natasha was kissing him. Nothing else mattered.
She pulled back with a soft smile. "Are you still off to war?"
Steve swallowed and nodded. "I need to. The Nazis are sweeping over Europe."
Natasha placed her head on his shoulder. Her breath tickled his skin. "Come back, and maybe I'll marry you."
James Rogers sorted through his mom's old things. There were dozens upon dozens of drawings and sketches, all featuring her. He had not once seen his father paint his mother during his lifetime.
He called the manager of his dad's estate. "I want to put together an exhibition. You won't believe what I just found."