A/N: First of all, happy December everyone. It's been quite a while since I last updated my stories. I was busy with exams, revision and well, some real life stuff. Things have been going really well for me and thus I shall wish you the same.
Writing, on the other hand, has not been going smoothly for me. I'm not a native speaker and English, in fact, is not even my second language (it's my third actually) and it really takes a lot of effort (and time) for me to put thoughts into words, and then turn words into stories.
Here's the story I promised. I hope you'd enjoy it.
Simple Act
Act 1
I sit before flowers, hoping they will train me in the art of opening up.
I stand on mountain tops, believing that avalanches will teach me to let go.
I know nothing, but I am here to learn.
- Shane Koyczan -
'The weather's good, isn't it?' her superior says. 'Coulson always liked it warm.'
She gives him a curt nod.
As people go forward and place roses on the coffin, she takes a step back and to her surprise, Fury does the same thing.
The one-eyed man turns to face her.
'How many?'
'Fifty-six or seven,' she murmurs. 'I lost count.'
'Still keeping that list?'
She doesn't say anything.
'You don't have to be so hard to yourself, Hill.'
She remains silent. Her face is stoic but her eyes are burning with cold fury.
'Still blaming me, are you?'
With a jerk in her head, she walks away from the crowd.
He stays after the service also.
He's tall. Taller than she'd imagined previously.
Coulson wasn't exaggerating after all.
The silence between them is comfortable. For a long while she listens to the howling wind while staring at the familiar name carved on the stone.
'I heard you were close with Phil.' He says quietly.
She pressed her lips together.
'Yes.'
'I'm sorry for your loss.'
Though his words are few and simple, she knows just how much he means it. She figures if there is someone who can understand the grief of loss as much as she does, it will be him.
'I have a question, Captain Rogers.'
'It's Steve,' he corrects her. 'You can call me Captain during missions and briefings.'
'Rogers.'
He frowns at her refusal to address him by his name, but his knitted brows relax slowly as she continues to speak.
'You lost almost everything. Time, chance, and people you love,' she says slowly. Her tone is gentler than it is just now. 'How… How do you deal with it?'
He's quiet for quite a while before he gives her the answer.
'I… try not to think about it that often, and I try to focus on things that have to be done.'
She nods. This sounds like what she always does. She then bends her knees and leaves the red poppies in front of the new grave.
He's in a better place right now, with the God he believes in. He'll be fine.
She stands up and turns to him.
'Do you miss her?'
He smiles slightly, and she notices his hand reaches for something in his pocket. A round object. She wonders briefly if it's an appropriate question to ask before he answers.
'All the time.'
tbc
