The thing about Charlotte's confidence, Steve soon found out, was that it was subtle. So, subtle, in fact, that one look at Charlotte, and one could say she was the type of girl that faded into the background
and tried to stay there. Except that Steve knew better because he came to realize that she wasn't the wallflower that one look gave, but rather the light in a room full of dull people. And given the situation, her confidence could rival Tony Stark's-in its own subtle way.
She didn't flaunt. Really, she preferred to watch others instead of being the center of attention. But she could hold the attention of people if the situation dictated. Steve knew this, since his attention seemed to always be hers when she was in the same room as his. Her voice carried, not the sort of voice like Thor's, which was inevitable to hear even if one was not in the same room as the prince, but loud enough to carry its weight, and always laced with the tone that the situation dictated.
And she was charming. Steve knew it, since he'd seen Tony Stark lay on the thick charm more than once. Charlotte's charm didn't scream self-confidence like Tony's, but, rather, hers was the kind that made people like her, the kind that made her adapt to the situation and to the people almost flawlessly. She was likeable.
Yet, there was something sharp in her personality that contrasted greatly with the sweetness she seemed to radiate at times. There was nothing naïve about Charlotte, Steve found out soon into their relationship, even when she might seem like she was at times. She was good at calmly taking charge of a situation, seemingly undisturbed by things that should have otherwise disturbed her (i.e. finding out Steve was Captain America) in a manner that could only be described as naïve. Her eyes told another story, though.
She had the brownest of eyes. Not black, just a plain brown, with no beautiful ambers or chocolates in between. Yet they were always alight; bright and holding the key to Charlotte's sharpness. Steve had been stumped when she'd barely taken a breath before she'd declared it ok that Steve was Captain America. There had not really been any questions, nor any need of proof, for his word alone seem to stand. She'd just smiled, steeled herself, and declared it ok. Yet the dilated pupils and darkening of the brown in her eyes told him that she was not going to take things lightly.
And she didn't. At least, not in the typical way that people involved in relationships with people that laid their life on the line everyday should. Charlotte never seemed to take Steve's lack of spare time to heart. She was alright with cancelled dates, and demanded nothing to make up for them. She'd just sigh in a relieved kind of way when she'd get to hear or see him again after his missions, and they would move on from there as if Steve hadn't just come out of a battlefield and she hadn't sat in her apartment watching videos online when she should have been with her boyfriend. Her eyes told him she understood, and that it was alright.
"You're not dead. It's ok, really. I always have homework to deal with, anyway," she'd say with a smile when he would try to apologize for leaving once he got back. And even during that spare time, in between missions and unexpected villains, she'd only sigh when he'd try to take her out, and say with a gentle smile and a tug on his hand, "you're tired, Steve. We can pop in a movie, come on," and they'd end up sprawled on her beat up couch, her roommates sometimes joining them on the floor.
And then there was the fire in her eyes. The one that Steve saw when she was angry, or determined (which he soon found out went hand in hand when dealing with Charlotte), and the look in her eyes he loved the most. The one she had given him first when he'd tried to give him his laptop. She was independent, she'd let him know, and refused to take the laptop. Steve had been half tempted to argue and tell her her independence had nothing to do with receiving his help, but had decided against it for the sake of not having their first argument. Except that, maybe he should have argued, instead of letting every single time she'd declare her independence and refuse his help bother him until it became a problem.
It was the beginning of May and he was on medical leave. Although the serum certainly helped speed up the process of healing, the stab wound he had received had been of the alien kind, and fatal had his body not been in top shape and enhanced like his was. So, he was forced into a month long leave, which was alright with him, really, since Charlotte's graduation fell during that month and he refused to miss that.
The day of her graduation, he'd picked her up for an early breakfast, after which they had pick up her parents from JFK airport and then made their way to Yankee Stadium for the actual ceremony. Charlotte had been uncharacteristically silent that morning. He'd asked her what was wrong, but she'd only smiled faintly and told him she was just nervous for her parents. It was the first time Steve would meet them, and he thought it strange that she was nervous now when she'd only been excited a week before when she found out her parents would be able to make it to see her graduate.
"And you get to meet them, Steve! They'll love you, I can already tell!" She'd exclaimed with a beaming smile and Steve could only smile back at seeing her so happy.
Meeting the parents wasn't as nerve-wracking as Steve thought it would be. It turned out her parents were as easy-going as Charlotte, her mother all gentle smiles, and her dad all teasing remarks and bear hugs. Steve only smiled and politely introduced himself, watching his girlfriend remark on her father's 'pregnant' belly, and her mother's new hair color. Through it all, though, Steve knew Charlotte wasn't as excited as she should have been, because even if her smiles were all genuine and bright, her eyes would turn sad when she thought no one was watching.
The whole day from there on went in much the same manner, all smiles, and corny jokes with her dad, while her eyes would suddenly turn sad. That night, her parents insisted Charlotte go out alone with Steve, saying they would be fine and that they wanted to explore on their own.
That was how Steve and Charlotte ended up walking through Central Park as the sun went down, the heels she had worn that whole day in one hand, and a pair of bright orange flip flops she had bought in a corner store on her feet, clashing against the purple dress she was wearing. They walked in silence for a while, hand in hand, until Steve bumped his shoulders to hers. She smiled and looked at him briefly before going back to staring at the ground.
"Are you going to tell me what's wrong now?" Steve asked, squeezing her hand a little tighter in his.
"Nothing's wrong. You've asked like a hundred times today, and I've told you, a hundred times, that I'm alright." She answered, and, well, yes, it was a bit snappy, Steve realized.
He back-pedaled, "you've just be quieter than usual, is all," he said because he knew accusing her would only make matters worse.
"Well, I don't talk all the time, contrary to popular belief," she mumbled, but he caught it.
Steve took a moment to think of how to get her to talk, but everything he could think of seemed to end up in Charlotte turning snappier, and he didn't want a fight.
"I know you don't. All I'm saying is that your parents are here and you were excited last week. You graduated today, Charlotte, I thought you'd be a little happier." And, nope, he just butchered it all, he knew.
"Well, excuse me for not jumping up in joy and yelling like a six year old, Steven." She snapped, yanking her hand from his.
Steve should've been confused, except that she'd called him Steven, and he knew that didn't mean anything positive to how their conversation was turning out. He frowned.
"Hey, there. I didn't mean anything bad. All I'm saying is that I am here for you to lean on if you need it."
Charlotte stopped walking and turned to him, making him stop as well. Her eyes were on fire-accusing-and her nose was subtly scrunched.
"I'm fine." She spit out. "I can take care of myself, I don't-" she cut off what she would say next, taking a step back and pursing her lips, but Steve had a good idea that what she would say would entail her saying that she did not need him in particular.
Steve could have very well dropped it there and apologize. She would sigh and smile her sad, tired smile, and tell him not to apologize, and it would all be fine. Only, it wasn't, and he was done putting up with a Charlotte that refused his help.
"You know, I get it. I know that you're independent-you make sure I do almost every single day-but would it hurt you to depend on me for just one second? You don't have to take on everything alone. I'm here for you to come to, and I would it would be nice to know that my girlfriend trusted in me from time to time." And, ok, yes, he was snappy now, too.
Charlotte stared at him for what could have been minutes, looking him straight in the eyes with a clenched jaw. Steve stared right back, refusing to yield. He knew they needed to talk about this before it became an even bigger problem than it already was. He wouldn't talk, though, before she did, and he knew her staring and refusal to talk was her way of thinking things through. Because, while Charlotte's mouth sometimes spewed out things before her brain clicked, she had the uncanny ability to remain calm and think things through in situations that should have made her feel cornered, and induced a panicked spilling of words. So she was thinking, and Steve would let her.
There was a bench a few feet away from where they had stopped to argue and he say her eyes briefly zero in on it before she slowly walked towards it and sat down, hunched over and looking at her toes. Steve took a deep breath, bracing himself, and sat next to her, making sure not to touch her. While they had never really argued, he knew angry Charlotte liked space, so he would give it to her. They sat for about ten minutes, in silence, Steve not willing to break the silence when he knew it was her that needed to explain herself.
And then she started speaking to her toes in a thick, almost broken voice that told Steve she was on the brink of crying.
"I got an e-mail last night from Columbia. You know how I was going to start Law School in the fall there with the scholarship they had awarded me with? They're so rare, since there's almost never any funding for it, but they had the money this year and they gave it to me. You know how I spent a whole month writing essays and getting recommendations from professors…anyway, I got an e-mail last night saying that the funding had to be deferred towards something or other-I don't remember what-so that I now have to pay out of pocket." Charlotte took a deep breath then, and sat up straighter, her gaze in the distance now, still not meeting his eyes. "Which, I guess, I could have lived with, if I were able to take out loans. But I can't because, even with my scholarships, I still had to take some out for NYU, and I know my parents can't help there because I was the one who helped them take out the ones they needed for my brothers, so they're maxed out." She shrugged, "So, yeah."
The action was casual, and the finality of her speech was as well, except that Steve could hear the thickness in her voice, and the way she was trying to subtly hide the trail of tears falling down her cheeks.
He opened his mouth to speak, to comfort her, and maybe get a cue from her saying that it was alright if he enveloped her in his arms. She cut him off before he could.
"And I do trust you. A lot, actually; I've just been sort of trying to figure what I'm going to do with myself now. I'm a little lost, kind of scared, and I guess it doesn't help that I'm bad at being dependent on people. You should ask my parents, they used to hate how I've always done everything by myself, until they realized they could do nothing to change that and began to just silently go along with whatever I do."
"I'm not you're parents, though. I don't think I'd be able to stand silently when I could be doing something to help. Charlotte, I don't mind shouldering your problems from time to time. I'm not asking you to drop everything and depend on me financially, or physically, or whatever other way of dependency there is. All I'm saying is that it'd be my absolute pleasure if you'd let me know what is going on with you once in a while." Steve slid over to be closer to her, taking her hand from her lap and encasing it in one of his. "I have pretty broad shoulders, if you're ever afraid your load is too heavy. I think I can take it."
And, suddenly, the tension was broken with Charlotte's watery laugh. "Alright," she said, and she leaned against him, her head against his shoulder, so he brought his arm around her, pulling her closer, and planting a quick kiss to the top of her head
"You know I can help with that," he mumbled against her hair.
"And you know I won't let you," she mumbled back.
He shrugged the shoulder that was unoccupied, and said, "what's mine is yours," with a sort of finality that left no arguments. Except there were multiple arguments against that, their lack of marriage being the biggest one, yet Steve didn't think it was such a big deal. Sure, they hadn't been in a relationship for long, and perhaps he was jumping the gun on this one, but he loved Charlotte. And Charlotte loved him.
Quite frankly, he didn't think his feelings for her could be summed up with a word like girlfriend. The word made Steve think that being with Charlotte was going to be temporary that they might move on at any second and while he knew she wasn't perfect and he was far from even being normal to begin with, she was good for him, and he liked to think he was good for her. So, would it really be too far-fetched to think that he wanted to marry her? Maybe in this era it might be too soon, and, well, yes, it might have been too soon in the 40's as well, but he was so sure she was the one.
"That's what you say when you're married, Steve," she said back, and he could hear the smile on her face.
He took a second to answer. He could agree and move on like he hadn't just implied marriage. Or he could let her know of his intentions. That's what any good gentleman did, his mother always told him. A lady must never be strung along, and he realized that he needed to let Charlotte know that he was in this relationship for the long run. Somehow, he knew the 'I love you's' he said and the flowers he liked to get her were enough. Because, while she never complained, and while it was so easy to get her to smile and to make her happy. He needed her to know that he looked forward to doing much more than he was already doing. And that including being hers for the rest of their lives.
So he made up his mind, and kept his confession light.
"I haven't asked you to marry me yet? A dame like you, you'd think you'd been stolen by a lucky guy already. I must be some kind of fool." He said with a smile, and grinned when he heard Charlotte's intake of breath. Even though he wasn't too sure why he suddenly felt like saying it, nor why his brain and heart finally coordinated while they were seated in a filthy park bench right after their first big fight, he couldn't find it in himself to regret it. Because, really, he had been Charlotte's since the very beginning, and marriage seemed like the next logical step.
She quickly dislodged herself from his embrace and turned big, wide brown eyes at him. The tears had stopped, but there were mascara trails along her face, and her eyes were rimmed in red. And yet, she was still the most beautiful woman Steve had met.
It took a moment, but, true to her nature, Charlotte went along with it and grinned mischievously. "Why, no, you haven't. I have had other suitors in the past, but none like yourself, Sir."
"We'll have to change that, then." He declared with finality in his voice, and the biggest smile Steve ever remembered giving.
Charlotte laughed and stood up, offering her hand to help him stand up. "Alright, Romeo. I think it's getting late and you're just trying to seduce me after our spat. Don't think I forgot about your injury."
He took her hand, and pulled her to him so that she stumbled. He quickly grabbed the back of her knees so that she fell into his other arm. She yelped, closing her eyes, and swatted at him when he had her settled into his lap. "I hate it when you do that." She grumbled.
Steve smiled, but quickly turned serious. They stared into each other's' eyes for a little while before he quickly stole a kiss. "I'm serious, though. I want to marry you."
"Ok." Charlotte responded simply, before leaning to kiss him.
He broke the kiss, and mumbled into her lips. "There'll be a ring and a big surprise proposal. You won't even see it coming."
Charlotte frowned a little, pulling away from him and cupping his cheeks with both of her hands. "I don't need all that."
Steve shrugged, and did the half-smile that she had once told him made her feel weird-"but good weird!"-things. "Humor me." He simply said. "I'm old-fashioned. The kind that gets rings and asks parents and brings flowers home. The whole thing, but only because you make me corny. Good corny."
Charlotte snorted a laugh, a move so unladylike, a move that Steve didn't really know ladies-the dames-even knew how to do until he met Charlotte. In fact, the first time she'd snorted in his presence, he'd been a little flabbergasted. He'd recovered soon enough, and had immediately decided that it was endearing and that it somehow fitted Charlotte.
"God, I'd love to see you asking my parents. I can almost hear my dad give you a speech on feminism and how I'm not property."
Steve shrugged, unfazed since he'd already met the man and could picture that particular conversation going exactly that way. "Then I'll let him know I wish to marry you, if you agree…you do want to marry me, right? I've just been going on, assuming that you want to marry me too. It's fine if you don't. Honestly, if you think it's too fast you can just-"
Charlotte's laugh cut his nervous rant abruptly. "I do want to marry you, Steve."
"Alright." He said before he attacked her face and jaw and neck with kisses, Charlotte breathing a soft, "Ok," while she giggled softly.