Steve rubbed his left wrist subconsciously. Since the weekend he'd spent with Peggy, the soulmate mark there had felt oddly sensitive, and tingled constantly, like pins and needles. Sitting alone in the teacher's lounge, trying to enjoy a cup of coffee before the school day started, he could only hope that it wouldn't distract him when he was trying to teach.
Out in the hallway, the school bell rang, the sound muffled-but only slightly-by the closed door of the teacher's lounge. Steve sighed. Gulping down the last of his coffee, he stood and made his way out into the hallway, blending seamlessly into the crush of students on their way to class. People were always surprised by how easily he was able to slip into crowds- they didn't expect someone as big as he was to be able to fit into such small spaces- but he would just shrug it off and, if they were someone familiar with his whole history, remind them that he hadn't always been the way he was now, and fitting into crowds was a skill he'd perfected before he'd become big.
Reaching his classroom, he stopped short, prompting muttered curses, ones they probably thought he couldn't hear, from the people behind him. He sighed, unlocked his classroom door, and went inside. He sat down heavily in his desk chair, causing the top of a precariously piled stack of art projects to be graded to slide off onto his desk. He was in the middle of straightening the stack back up when his phone dinged.
Heard you were back from your mission, read the text message on the screen. Missed you! Steve smiled in spite of himself.
I missed you too, he wrote. Maybe we could meet up after I get off work? He sent the text, then waited anxiously for the reply. It came a moment later.
I would love that, it read. What time?
Around 2:45, Steve wrote back. Meet me at the Midtown Science High School subway station.
The school you teach at has its own subway station? Steve could see Peggy's raised eyebrow in his mind's eye as he read her text, which made him laugh out loud.
Hey, don't look at me, he wrote. I didn't build it.
You're hilarious, you are, Peggy replied. There was a distinctly teasing tone to her message. I have to go now, but I'll talk to you later.
Later, Steve wrote. By this time, the warning bell had rung and students were beginning to file into his class. He put his phone on silent and set it aside, ready to face the day. After taking attendance, he left his students to work on their individual projects, occasionally circulating the room to offer advice or encouragement.
By the end of the school day, after seven class periods of trying his best to teach his students to love art, Steve felt both exhausted and energized at the same time. He couldn't wait to see Peggy. He reached the subway station and there she was waiting for him, dressed in a meticulously tailored business suit and heels, her dark brown curls perfectly arranged, looking as beautiful as she had the day he'd met her. He was sure she always would.
"I only have an hour," she said when Steve reached her. "I'm on my lunch break right now."
"That's alright," Steve replied. "I'll take whatever I can get." Peggy laughed at that, a clear bright sound like the ringing of a bell. It filled Steve's heart with joy.
"So,um…" he said hesitantly. "D'you want to meet my parents?"
"Now?" Peggy asked, raising an eyebrow. "We only just met six days ago, Steve. Isn't that moving a little fast?"
"Yeah, you're right," Steve agreed. He could feel his cheeks growing hot with embarrassment that he'd even suggested it. "Let's just go get something to eat." He slung an arm around Peggy's shoulders and pulled her close to him, and they waited for the subway crowded close together like two teenagers in their first relationship, unable to keep out of each other's personal space.
"You know," Peggy said about twenty minutes later, leaning against the wall next to Steve's door while he unlocked it, "when you said 'let's go get something to eat', and I wasn't expecting you to bring me to your apartment."
"What can I say?" Steve replied with a shrug, opening his door. "I remembered that I have leftover chili in the fridge." "Bucky makes a mean pot of chili," he added a moment later. "He got the recipe from his mother." Peggy laughed as she followed Steve into his apartment. Steve watched her take it all in- the tiny bookshelves sagging under the weight of more books than they were designed to hold, the worn couch, the framed photograph of his father on the rickety coffee table- and suddenly felt ashamed of it all.
"I know it's not much," he began "but-"
"It's fine, Steve," Peggy interrupted. "It's lovely. Really." She moved toward the bookcase on the far side of the room, and Steve's gut twisted when he realized that she'd spotted his mother's engagement ring, which was sitting on top of it, next to a drawing of her that Bucky had had framed for him.
"No Peggy, please don't-" Steve said, rushing across the room to put himself between her and the bookcase when she reached for it. He slammed into the bookcase that he sent it rocking back against the wall with a thump, followed by another as it settled back into place. Peggy froze with her hand in the air, eyes wide with surprise.
"What's gotten into you?" she asked.
"Please don't touch that," Steve said, breathless.
"What is it?" Peggy asked, slowly, finally, pulling her hand back.
"It's my...mother's engagement ring," Steve said, his hesitation having nothing to do with his having to catch his breath from his sprint across the room. He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other as Peggy studied his face, her brow furrowed with confusion. She opened her mouth to speak, probably to question him further, but he cut her off with a raised hand.
"Please," he said, hating how he was acting towards her, the quaver in his voice, the way it sounded like he was begging her for mercy. "I don't want to talk about it. Not now." Peggy frowned, concern etched in every line of her face, but nodded and followed him into the kitchen. During the tense, silent meal that followed, Steve spent more time avoiding Peggy's eyes than actually eating. He noticed her gaze slide sideways, and knew that she'd seen the drawing on the wall above the sink, laminated with tape so as to prevent it from getting wet. If he was grateful for one thing, it was that she hadn't seen the ones in the hallway, or in his bedroom, or in any of the other dozen places they were hung throughout the apartment- yet. For the first time, he was seeing those drawings from an outsider's perspective, and he didn't like what they said about him.
"I've got to go," Peggy finally said, setting down her empty bowl and standing up. "They'll be expecting me back at work." Steve nodded but didn't say anything.
"Thank you for this," Pegg went on, leaning down to give him a kiss goodbye. "It was...nice." Her hesitation indicated that it had been something other than nice, but Steve didn't really want to pry further into that. When she was gone, he couldn't shake the feeling that she'd taken some part of him with her, namely his dignity.
"Steve, what the hell are you doing?" Bucky's voice asked, some hours later.
"We can't have these drawings up anymore," Steve said without turning around, pulling one of the drawings in question off the wall and dropping it in the box at his feet. "They're gonna give people the wrong impression."
"Oh yeah?" Bucky demanded, stepping within the field of Steve's peripheral vision. "And what impression is that?"
"That I have an unnatural obsession with my dead mother," Steve replied, his voice lacking any sort of inflection.
"Damn it Steve, knock it off," Bucky snapped, stepping between him and the wall, blocking his way to the next drawing he'd been about to take down. "What's gotten into you? You never cared what people thought of these before." Steve didn't answer.
"Come on," Bucky prodded. Steve sighed.
"I...had Peggy over for lunch," he said, breaking his silence. "She saw Mom's ring on the bookshelf"-he gestured back toward the living room- "and instead of asking her not to touch it, I basically just threw myself between her and it."
"Okay, that was an overreaction, I'll admit," Bucky said, "but that still doesn't explain your sudden concern with appearances."
"Peggy saw the drawings in the kitchen," Steve explained, "and for the first time, I saw them from an outsider's perspective, and I don't like what they say about me."
"Instead of freaking out and taking them all down," Bucky said, picking the box up from the floor and putting the drawings in it back in place, "why don't you just call Peggy or something and explain them to her? I'm sure the only reason things felt so uncomfortable is because you freaked out on her with no apparent provocation. If she knew why you reacted the way you did, she'd understand, I'm sure."
"That's...a good idea, actually," Steve said after a moment of thought. "Thanks Buck." He managed a smile.
"Anytime," Bucky replied. "You know that without me you'd be hopeless with women, right?"
"Of course," Steve said. This line of conversation had sincerely brightened his mood.
"Good," Bucky replied. "Just so long as you're aware. Now help me finish hanging these back up. They're not going anywhere."
