"No."

The word stung. Sort of like being slapped, but worse. Even Charlotte seemed to recognize how she had said it, because her eyes were wide in disbelief and looking at him in almost a pleading fashion. She wanted Steve to understand her, but he couldn't.

He should have probably worded his question better. Was there a better way of asking her to move to D.C. with him other than asking it downright? Charlotte appreciated that he didn't, 'beat around the bush,' so to speak, so why the sudden answer? Why the no?

"I love you…but I also love myself enough to know that I can't just drop everything for you." Charlotte explained after a rather long pause. They were sitting in her living room, both her roommates out for the evening, some sort of movie that Steve could not remember ever picking playing in the background.

"I'm not asking you to do that," Steve responded quickly, unsure if he was allowed to touch her again. She'd immediately separated from him when he had asked, and was now sitting on the other side of the sofa, staring at him with wide eyes.

Charlotte shook her head, looking at her lap, "but you are."

"You don't have a career yet, Charlotte. It's not much you'd be dropping," and Steve was angry when he said that, because, why? He had planned this going better, had planned for Charlotte being a bit more understanding, had planned on this night being the night he proposed after she'd say yes to the move. The ring in his pocket seemed to be white hot in his pocket, burning against the small velvet box it was encased in, and through his thigh as if to mock him, and he clenched his jaw.

But Charlotte recoiled back, like she was the one being slapped now, and he almost gasped out loud when he realized what he had said. And then her eyes were hard, and her jaw was clenched, and she was crinkling her nose, oh, God, he'd just messed up. Because, as far as Charlotte went, that was the worst insult he could have thrown at her. He hadn't meant it to be one, but he knew it was. She had spent the last month and a half looking for a job in anything related to her major, and was still unemployed in that department. She still waitressed, full time now, and even did tutoring for pay from time to time, and it wasn't what she planned to do with her life, but she was proud of earning her keep, of being able to pay her part of the rent, and bills. And he'd just wounded her pride.

"My whole life is here," she began, her voice rough, and Steve knew she was holding back tears, "and I don't have much, and damn it, I've never had much, and, to be perfectly honest, there is a very big possibility that I will never have much, but don't you ever dare tell me that what I do is not worth anything. Because, yes, I am making minimum wage, and, sure, I have a degree and no job in that field, but I am honest, and proud, and you don't get to tell me otherwise, Steve."

Another long pause. Steve didn't know what to say, because he knew he had hurt her with what he'd say. He would take it back if he could, would reign in his sudden anger if he could, but no amount of praying or wishing would let him do that.

"I think I'm going back to Arizona," Charlotte suddenly said, her eyes on her lap, where she was picking at her nails. She did that when she was stressed, or nervous.

"What?" Was the only response Steve could come up with, because he was suddenly aware that this conversation had taken a sharp turn without him and he was struggling to catch up.

"Jay is going back to Nebraska by the beginning of August to start grad school there. And Lauren is moving in with her boyfriend by next month. I can't afford rent on my own," Charlotte shrugged, still not looking at him, "and my mom has a friend who knows someone who works at one of the news stations in Phoenix, and they think they can get me a paid internship just editing copy for them. It's not ideal, but I only have a few months left before I have to start paying off my loans-"

"I can help with that."

"No," Charlotte answered quickly, without thought, as if she knew he would say this. She probably did, "no, you can't."

Steve didn't argue this. They had had this conversation before, and Steve was not about to add another argument into the already messed up conversation they were having.

Because that is what this was. It was a messed up conversation, one that had grown out of control way too fast, and Steve did not know what to do or say.

"There are jobs in D.C. too," Steve tried after a few minutes of silence. Charlotte looked up from playing with her hands.

"I'm not about to go into a new state without any resources-"

"I already have an apartment, and I can take care of the utilities," but Charlotte was already shaking her head no, "I can get you a job-"

"I'm not going to be that girl, Steve."

"What does that even mean?" and Steve knew he sounded angry again, and he kind of was.

"I'm not going to be the girl that becomes complacent and follows along with the boy, and lets him find her a job while she waits around-"

"That is not what I am saying!"

And their voices were raised, and he knew he should never raise his voice at Charlotte, but he was angry and disappointed, and the small voice in the back of his head that reminded him of manners and chivalry was not enough to reel his voice back.

"But that's what you're implying, Steve!"

"God damn it, Charlotte! You're putting words in my mouth!" And he'd blasphemed, and he never did that in front of Charlotte, but she was infuriating, and stubborn, and he loved her. "I want to help, and you're not letting me! We've been over this already. I love you. So dang much, it hurts. And I just need you to rely on me occasionally. I need you to trust me."

"This isn't about me being independent, Steve! You are missing the whole point. I need to be myself and not Steve's girl all the time. I love being yours, because I know you are mine too. But you have the world to offer me, and I have nothing to offer in return, and I don't want to lose myself in the idea that you're going to have my back always. There are things I should, and can, do on my own."

He didn't know how to respond to that. They were both breathing hard, Charlotte's eyes red from unshed tears, her voice still rough, and he knew he must look a wreck.

"I love you," he repeated with fervor, and added, almost desperately, "I need you, Charlotte."

Because he did. He needed Charlotte; needed her to remind him that he was Steve Rogers, that he wasn't just Captain America, that everything that he was hadn't come out of a bottle. Because Charlotte made him feel alive, like he hadn't woken up in a different century, like he hadn't lost everything in a blink of an eye. She was home.

And Steve was selfish enough to want to keep her around. He had given up everything, literally everything, and he was tired of being the martyr, of forgetting about his needs, and his hopes, and he just wanted this one thing to work.

And then Charlotte let out a sob, one that Steve knew she had been holding in since the beginning of all this, and her arms were around herself, but he couldn't bring himself to come closer to console her.

She quieted down after that gut-wrenching sob, silent tears trailing down her face, and Steve managed to touch her knee with an unsure hand, before she launched herself at him, hugging tightly, and he did the same, letting her straddle him in the couch while she held him, and he did the same.

She didn't sob, just held him tightly, her face buried in the crook of his neck while he breathed in the honey scent of her hair.

"I need you too," she whispered into his neck after a few minutes. The movie was still playing in the background, but neither of them seemed to mind. Both had other things to worry about. Steve only tightened his arms around her in response, laying a kiss on the top of her head.

A few minutes passed, and Steve let it, content to hold her, if only for right now. There was much to talk about, but it all seemed to have calmed down for now.

And then Charlotte was dislodging herself from his grip, but kept her position on his lap. Her arms let go of him, but her hands came to cup his face in them. She looked into his eyes for a long time, and Steve didn't talk, looking at her right back.

"When?" She asked, and Steve was disoriented for a bit before his heart began to beat faster and he had to suppress the hopeful smile that was threatening to split his face. She hasn't said yes, he reminded himself.

"The orders are for the beginning of September," he answered.

"I'm paying half the rent," Charlotte said after more silence, and Steve just nodded against her hands, choosing to keep the fact that he had already bought the place to himself for the time being. "And half the bills." Steve nodded again, fighting hard to suppress the grin threatening to spill forth.

And just like that Charlotte smiled, and punched his right pectoral. "You can smile now."

But he laughed, grabbing Charlotte thighs and laying her down on the couch before he was kissing her hard and smiling at the same time. And he was happy, elated, but stopped kissing her to say, "I don't want you to feel like you have to-"

"I don't. Feel that way, that is. There's lots of websites where I can start looking for jobs in D.C. before anything happens. I wouldn't be saying yes if I didn't truly want to, Steve. You know that."

And he knew. She never did anything she did not want to do, and that made him smile wider, knowing that she was saying yes because she wanted to.

"Just don't propose to me right now," she said, smiling up at him.

"How did you know?" He asked, but not disappointed, because he hadn't planned on doing so; not anymore, anyway. The ring was in his pocket, but had come to the decision that he had already gotten one yes, and that he would not push his luck. Besides, he wanted to propose at a better time, with flowers, and happy tears playing into the equation. He suddenly felt stupid for wanting to propose that night.

"I can feel the box in your pocket," she responded, before her face broke into a brilliant smile, the wicked smile he loved so much on her face now. "Or are you just happy to see me?"

"Both?" he responded with a laugh before kissing her again, laying on top of her almost completely, his arms bracing against the sofa, taking most of his weight so as not to crush her. He couldn't bring himself to blush, not now when he was as happy as he was right then and there. And she laughed against his mouth too, her hands on his face as they continued to kiss.