Eva clutched her sheets around her body tightly, trembling a bit in cold shivers and waiting for the medicine she'd just taken to start working. She hated being sick, absolutely hated it, and if it was for her, she'd be continuing on with her life and pretend nothing was wrong. Except, of course, that she was an agent of SHIELD, and they were very strict when it came to health and work performance, and she was dating no one other than Captain America. As soon as the blonde started sneezing and became feverish, Steve had already called her superior up and arranged a week off for her to rest and heal.

"I hate this," she whined, sniffing.

From ter kitchen, Steve chuckled. He'd taken a day off to spend Valentine's Day, and when his girlfriend ended up sick, he changed their plans and took a week off to take care of her.

"I can see that," he declared.

Steve was not a stranger to staying over at her place, so there was no need to bring any clothing, and when he entered her flat, his backpack was filled with medicine and ingredients that were known to help with colds.

"Fear not," he walked in her direction with a bowl in his hands. "My ma's famous flu fighter chicken and garlic soup is here."

Eva opened her eyes at him, sighing and smirking.

"I hope you know that this recipe dates back to..."

"Your great-grandmother," she interrupted him playfully, knowing the story from memory. He always said that.

He sat on the floor in front of her, holding the deep plate and a spoon, and Eva watched him for a moment, finding his bright blue eyes staring at her with such a deep feeling that her heart raced and her cheeks heated up.

This was new for her, the whole... someone taking care of her. Eva couldn't remember the last time she didn't just push through her fevers and kicked anyone out of even trying to make things easy for her. But here was Steve fucking Rogers, and he came, and pushed through all of her walls and found himself a place in her life and a way to take care of her against all of her wishes.

"You're gonna get sick," she whined, trying to make him change his focus.

"I'm not," he pointed out, stirring the liquid. "The Serum won't let me."

Eva rolled her eyes, annoyed, and frowned when he raised the spoon.

"Steve..." she protested. "It's Valentine's Day. You don't want to spend it spoon-feeding me chicken soup."

Eva just grinned a little bit.

"I do," he corrected her. "Now, open up."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Really?"

"Really," he confirmed. "Come on. Open up."

Finally, she complied and let him guide the spoon into her mouth, closing her lips around it and finally understanding why he always talked so much about the soup. It was fantastic, superb. It was like her taste buds had been hugged tightly and were sleeping on the softest blankets in the world.

"Wow," she exclaimed. "This is really good."

He chuckled.

"I know, right?" he asked, smiling at her surprise. "I told you so! Now, come on. Soup time, open up."

And Eva did it, without a protest this time. She ate the soup in silence, and as soon as she was done, he offered her a napkin to clean the corner of her lips.

"See?" he asked. "It's not bad to let someone take care of you, Eva," he said in a soft tone, reaching for her and pushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. "You know... normal people like taking care of those we love."

The last word made her look up quickly, and he gave her a smile, offering this girlfriend an open hand, to which she slowly extended her own, taking it and taking a deep breath when he squeezed her gently.

His lips touched the back of her skin very gently, and Steve smiled.

Love. Yes. That was it, right? That was what she was feeling.

"I love you too," she whispered, unable to hold her tongue.

His smile only grew, and he kissed the back of her hand again.

"I know."