Day 32
"The usual?"
Steve nods andBerit smiles happily. He watches her leave, knowing she'll be back in exactly four minutes. He'll make room for the mug, moving the newspaper a little bit, and eventually he'll leave 7,50 € and head towards his B&B.
He is aware of the fact that staying too long might blow his cover at some point, but somehow, in this city people don't seem to look at him as closely as they might elsewhere. It's a strange folk, these Northerners. Right now, it's just what he needs. He's been here a week and part of him enjoys the peace and quiet. He has ordered a couple of books online which have been sent to his current address. Some novel that Sam recommended a while ago, before everything fell apart. A biography of Martin Luther King. Three books by renowned psychology and neuroscience experts.
He wishes he could talk to Bruce about these.
Reluctantly, he pulls the phone out of his pocket. He unlocks the screen, even though he knows there's nothing to find. The volume's on, he never sets it to offline mode, and his enhanced hearing wouldn't let him miss a mouse squeaking, let alone the familiar signal of an incoming text or call. He'd recognize the ringtone anywhere. The ringtone that T'Challa – apparently still a kid at heart beneath the constant frown and the black suit - set to the Pink Panther theme song.
Steve found out about this when he used the B&B's phone to call himself. After all, he had to make sure the phone worked.
He could ask Bruce for scientific advice. He could speak to Sam, find out if he's alright, if the others are okay. He should maybe call Tony. More than anything, he wants to talk to Bucky.
"Maybe you should just call her."
He startles and almost drops the phone. Hastily, he pushes it away. The waitress looks at him apologetically.
"I shouldn't have said that. Not appropriate, I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Steve replies dismissively. Hell, he's done a lot of inappropriate things lately. Who's he to blame her? As she places the coffee in front of him, he feels like he needs to explain himself.
"It's not like that. I mean, not a girl."
"Oh." Does she look disappointed? "Well, whatever, it's perfectly fine, it's not that I have anything against –"
Steve can't stifle the low chuckle. He picks up the coffee and takes a sip.
"Oh no, no, it's not like that, either. It's just… there's this friend I used to have, best friend actually, but we've become… estranged." It's not the right word, but it should be enough of an explanation. "Some stuff has happened recently that's just not so easily overcome when you're on your own, you know? But I'm not sure if contacting him will help. We've been through some shit – I mean, some hard times. Sorry."
Berit laughs and holds out her hand.
"One dollar for the swear jar, Sir."
It's a joke and she can't really know about the many times Tony has said this to him after that one – one! – incident. Still, Steve can't shake the cold washing over him or the stabbing sensation that comes with the distant echo of memories of better times. It's been over a month since they've last spoken, and even longer since the last conversation that ended on friendly terms. Tony still hasn't called. He shouldn't expect him to, either. Steve knows how stubborn and proud Tony Stark is, and he's also well aware of the fact that he's hurt him. He won't forgive him so easily. Steve wouldn't, if their roles were reversed. Maybe they are more alike that he thought, and this is probably one of the reasons why they always struggled to get along.
With Bucky, things have always been different from any other friendship he's known. They're very much alike and yet quite the opposite, both equipped with a certain amount of pride and stubbornness. But where Steve spits fire and wants to take on the world at once, Bucky has always been more strategic, taking down one at a time, thinking before acting. Steve has always been prone to take things personal, something that probably comes inevitably when you grow up small and frail and sick. Bucky, on the other hand, never had to worry about people thinking less of him. Never needed to earn respect like Steve did.
It's these small differences that add up so perfectly to a bond closer than that between brothers.
"Sir?"
Steve flinches and almost drops his coffee mug. Some of the black liquid spills onto the newspaper.
"I'm sorry, got lost in thought there for a moment," he says and takes a deep breath. He can only imagine how Sam and Bucky would unite in their mutual amusement at their friend's idiocy.
"It's alright," the girl replies with her perfect smile plastered on her face. "I'll leave you alone before my lose mouth causes more embarrassment for both of us."
She hurries away, much to Steve's relief.
He wipes a drop of coffee off the phone's screen. It's not so difficult, he tells himself. And totally justified to ask after his friends.
But when the coffee is emptied, the phone is back in his pocket.
A/N: I've been super lazy lately, I'm sorry. I hope I get back to writing more now that I've completely settled at my new home.