Steve felt the weight of the silence surround him pressing into his bones. His days had been so busy since he'd… woken up, that he hardly had any time alone when he wasn't dead asleep. Barring the end of the world, though, most of SHIELD were home with their families for Christmas. Steve just didn't have any family.
He could have, and now he had this necklace, but he still didn't know what to do. He just couldn't find a way to do anything.
His self-pity was cut off by a knock at the door. "Come in," he called, curious who would want to see him at – he checked the time – almost nine o'clock at night on Christmas Eve.
Hermione Carter stepped into the doorway. His heart froze in his chest. They'd been working together functionally since waking up, but they hadn't been alone together since 1944. Steve had a feeling that November night would be burned in the back of his mind until the day he died.
Thinking of that day had him up on his feet. "Hermione," he managed to say.
"I was feeling a little lonely." She gave a half-smile. "I didn't know where else to go. I was hoping you had time for a visit from an old friend."
"Hermione," Steve repeated in a dreamy sigh. He blinked, quickly drawing himself out of whatever had been happening. "Of course, please, sit. Here, this is the better chair, you take it." Their shoulders grazed as they slid past one another in the less than luxuriously sized room. "Plus, I have a present for you over here, so…"
"I can't believe you have a Christmas tree." She laughed softly. "That's probably the saddest tree I've ever seen."
"I thought the tinsel was a nice touch," he said half-seriously. "It's festive." He reached all the way behind the tree, having hidden her gift at the back lest someone discover it. He didn't know why he was so afraid of that, just that he was. When he turned back to face her, she was smiling more openly.
"It doesn't have any ornaments, Steve." His name sounded as sweet as ever on her lips.
He handed her the small box, which he knew was poorly wrapped and taped together. "Tinsel is one big ornament, Hermione." Hopefully it was the thought that counted for the wrapping.
Her gift in hand, Hermione's smile fell. "I don't have anything for you, I didn't know you were going to get me something. I'm sorry," she murmured. "Next year you can have two."
He chuckled. "It's alright, doll." It might have been his imagination, but the room seemed to get warmer. "Just open yours. You being here is enough of a present for me."
She frowned for a split second. She peeled the wrapping back with remarkable care given the state it was in. Faced with what was clearly a jewelry box, she sucked in a breath. "Steve, you shouldn't have," she said seriously.
Was this as bad an idea as he thought? "It's yours, you might as well open it," he encouraged.
Hermione opened the box gingerly and gasped. "It's – it's lovely," she whispered.
"It was my mother's," he said softly. She let out a slow breath, probably remembering how he'd grieved for her for so long after her death. "I, uh, wasn't going to wear it, so I thought I'd give it to someone who would appreciate it." He scratched the back of his head while he waited for her to look up from the box. After a moment, it seemed she wouldn't. "Do you like it?"
Her tear-filled eyes met his. "I love it." He met her watery smile with a small one of his own. "Could you help me put it on?"
Steve's throat went dry. "Of course."
She stood and gestured for him to join her. When he did, she reached back and lifted her heavy hair off her neck. He didn't know if it was perfume or shampoo, but the scent of rosewater flooded his senses. He leaned around her to pick up the necklace and fumbled to unclasp it.
He wondered if he was breathing too loudly. As he draped the pearls around her neck, he was careful not to touch any bare skin. The hook wouldn't close with how much his hands were shaking.
"The last time you gave me a gift, we went out dancing. Do you remember?" she asked thickly.
"Do you want to dance?" Hermione was wearing the ebony velvet hair ribbon he'd bought her. I saw it and thought you might like it. No ribbon could tame her mass of hair, but the curls peeking out at the front gave her a softly feminine, almost dainty appearance. She'd been like him before, small and too-skinny, but now she stood taller than other women and had a more confident, more commanding presence. He'd thought she was pretty before, but she was something else now. Even now, though, she could seem so small to him. He felt a wistful smile curl up on his lips. "Sure thing, doll."
Howard snorted. Bucky, still protective as ever, punched him in the arm. Hermione laughed when Howard whined. "Let's go."
The number playing changed when they hit the dance floor. You always hurt the one you love, crooned Donald Mills. Steve closed his eyes and half-consciously pulled Hermione closer to him. She sighed, and he felt the weight of her head on his shoulder. Hermione's voice joined Mills so softly he almost didn't hear: The one you shouldn't hurt at all.
You always break the kindest heart with a hasty word you can't recall. His grip on her shoulder tightened, and like she knew another fight was coming, the hand on his back clutched at his shirt. They danced like this, swaying loosely but tight with tension, until the exciting opening tones of the G.I. Jive startled Steve's eyes open and Hermione stepped away.
"Yeah, I remember." His hands skimmed the back of her neck, she shivered, and he almost dropped his mother's – Hermione's – necklace. "You looked beautiful," he dared to say. The clasp clicked into position and Hermione let her hair fall. He caught another whiff of rosewater and reflexively stepped back.
She turned in place to face him. Her eyes betrayed grief, anger, and a sort of yearning. She had always worn her heart, if not on her sleeve, then in her eyes. "Looking beautiful wasn't enough for you."
Steve collapsed into the chair behind him, the comfortable chair he'd offered her before. He put his head in his hands and groaned. "You've always been enough. More than enough," he stressed. She perched on the arm of the plush armchair and he peeked out. "You've got goosebumps," he realized.
"Let's not do this outside," Steve begged. "It's freezing, you've already got goosebumps." The harsh streetlight threatened to drown out the night sky, but he could still make out the moon and stars looking down at him, cold and judgemental.
"I don't want to do this inside," she said shortly. She blinked furiously. "If you have the nerve to make me cry, I am not chancing Howard or Bucky seeing it."
"You're gonna be a human popsicle." With a flick of her hand, a wave of heat crashed over them. He frowned. "A little warm, don't you think?"
Hermione crossed her arms. "Is it?" She said it like a challenge. "It's almost like I have just as much power as you do and I can use it to –"
"I don't think you can't take care of yourself –" he tried.
She shoved a pointer finger in his chest. "Then why do you think you need to protect me –"
"That's not why –"
The door to the dance hall creaked open, and Howard Stark stepped outside. He blinked. "Why's it so hot?" It clicked into place. "Oh, damn – I'm sorry," he said, hands up and palms out. Hermione groaned. "I'll just, uh, get going." He slipped his hands in his pockets and sped awkwardly down the street. Still, even a quick walk down a quiet street meant a little time before he was out of earshot.
She stood before him, sad and angry and heartbroken, until the sound of Howard's footsteps faded. "I can't believe you," she said harshly.
"Doll –" she flinched – "it's because I love –"
"Don't you dare," she hissed. The streetlights around them went out all at once, and damn it, she was so beautiful in the cold light of the waning moon. She wiped her flushed face with the back of her hand. "Don't you even dare."
She spun in place and disappeared with a crack.
If I broke your heart last night, it's because I love you most of all.
He wouldn't see Hermione Carter again for a long, long time.
His chest hurt at the memory. "It was a cold night. The warmth disappeared when you did."
"Did you mean it?" Hermione's voice was filled with some unrecognizable emotion.
He froze in place. "Did I mean what?"
"Don't play stupid," she whispered. "Did you mean what you were going to say to me?"
Steve lifted his head fully and looked up at her. It was barely up at all, really; any height she gained by sitting on the chair's arm was made up for by his own. He placed a hand over one of hers, and although she flinched she didn't pull away. "I did."
"Then why?" He recognized the way she was blinking back tears and squeezed her hand.
"I was stupid." She cocked her head but didn't speak, and he took it as a sign to continue. "I thought that if we – well, if we did and we were in the field together, and you got hurt, I'd get distracted from the mission. We had lives in our hands, Hermione."
She frowned. "We've been in the field together for months. I've taken hits and you stayed completely professional."
"Yeah, well." Steve sighed. "I was wrong."
Hermione was silent for a moment before a small smile crept onto her face. "Hearing you say that never gets old."
"You and Howard used to keep a notebook," he recalled wistfully. "You underlined everything I got wrong more than once."
"That part was Bucky's idea," she said with an odd laugh. She finally squeezed his hand back. "It doesn't feel like Christmas now they're not here. I think that's why I came here, to you. You're the only one who really understands what it's like."
"I'm glad you came. I wanted to talk to you, but I didn't know what to say."
Her grip on his hand loosened. "And what are you trying to say to me, Steven?"
He swallowed. "I love you." The lights overhead flickered. "And I wish I'd done better before. I want to make it up to you, and I want you to trust me enough to let me show you every day how much I love you."
Hermione stood, and although she lacked his unnatural strength she managed to pull him up with her. "I love you, too." His heart raced and he let out a deep breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "I do want to trust you. I do, but I was so angry at you for so long…" Her teeth toyed with her bottom lip. "This is going to take more than one night."
That was alright with Steve, more than he could have hoped for. "Thank you." As usual, she had a loose curl beginning to fall into her face. He hesitantly reached out to push it behind her ear. Hermione wrapped her smaller hand around his and pulled it to rest on her waist. She brought a hand to his back and he took her other hand in his.
A comfortable warmth fell over the room, and they swayed together well into the night.