Hi Folks!
I'm back with a new installment of Steve's and Cora's war time romance. It's a bit longer than the previous chapters, but hopefully that isn't a hardship!
I've had some lovely reviews, so thank you so much, it really does mean a lot to have your support. And my story favourites and follows are increasing every day which is always encouraging. Spurs me on to get the next chapter written, you see. So, if you like what you're reading, please do favourite or follow the story, and even share it around like-minded friends to enjoy!
Anyway, here it is. I hope you like it!
CHAPTER 3 - The Torn Note.
"Excuse me." Asked Steve, standing in front of the University front desk slightly nervously.
There was no answer from the older lady behind the dark wooden desk as she flicked through papers, seemingly in deep concentration or entirely oblivious to Steve's presence. That made it a little difficult for him, not knowing if he should speak up again in case she genuinely didn't hear him. However, if she did hear him and couldn't answer just yet due to something important in her work that required no interruption, that he would come across as being very rude and impatient if he spoke up again. So, he decided to give it a moment, just to be on the safe side.
Steve rocked slightly on his feet, looking down at the floor as he waited. Then he perused the grand foyer from his position at the front desk. The space was definitely impressive and sang with upper class wealth. It was mainly dark wood which gave the large space a dim light and an air of sophistication in a way, especially when coupled with the wide central staircase that swept to either side to reach the next floor. It sort of reminded him of an old and important library, and it had that musty scent that always accompanied when you had an abundance of wood in a close space.
"Yes?" Questioned the desk secretary suddenly to make Steve jump, her words echoing slightly in the vastness of the foyer. She was looking up from her paperwork now, her eyes slightly narrowed as she obviously sized him up, before finally softening with a gentle curious smile as she removed her glasses. "Can I help you?"
"Yes, thank you, I was wondering if you could tell me how to get to the art department? Specifically Mr Clark's class?"
The mature lady's brow furled in thought and was about to inform him that non-students were not permitted inside the campus, but on spotting the hidden bunch of flowers peeking out from behind his back, she smiled tenderly. She knew full well who in that class they were intended.
"You're not allowed here, you know, young man." She said with feigned discipline. "Students only."
"I know, ma'am." He replied, sweeping his floppy fringe to the side. "I'm meeting a friend and I wanted to surprise her. I will only be a few minutes if you could perhaps... maybe just this time..."
"Alright alright." She relinquished with a grin as she stood up and leant forward over the desk to direct him with hand gestures. "Take the elevator to the third floor. When you're out, turn left and walk to the end of the corridor. Then turn right, and Mr Clark's class is the fourth door on the right."
"Thank you." Steve smiled. "I really appreciate it, ma'am."
"You're welcome. And good luck."
Steve grinned with a slight blush as he hurried over to the elevator.
After carefully following her instructions and using the time to calm his nerves, he was finally creeping closer to the open door of the large art class. He had never done anything like this before, and he hoped that it would be well received considering she actually hadn't invited him to come to the University.
Peeking inside around the door frame, he could see almost twenty easels set up in a circular fashion around a classic statue of a Grecian woman. Everyone was completely focused on their painting of the subject, some incorporating fantastical colours into the composition.
He tried to search out Cora amongst the artists, but the easels were obscuring most of his view. So he decided to search closer to the floor; The artist's feet which the canvases did not hide. All of the painters wore men's leather shoes, all very similar to one another but varying in different shades of brown. One pair, however, was most certainly female. The only woman in the class, as she had once told him.
On the far side of the art room, concealed by the large canvas, he could see the set of brown heeled pumps, slender calves and the hem of a rich green pencil skirt just below her knees. He watched and smiled as every now and then she would shuffle across the wooden floor. Steve could imagine her enthusiastic painting, whipping the brush across the linen in joyful strokes.
After Coney Island the night before, and after they had gone their separate ways from Bucky and Samantha, they had decided to take a walk for a little while before getting a cab to their respective homes. They had talked about her studies and art that she liked, as well as the sort of topics Steve enjoyed to draw. They had discussed their ideals and their families, and they had shared their favourite songs and movies. It was then that they had decided to meet again tonight to go see a new film that had just been released. At the time, she had questioned whether he would like a night off as she seemed to be starting to hog all his evenings, but Steve had almost leapt in disagreement, insisting that they go. Her smiling response had been beautiful to see, and truly satisfying to witness. He still could hardly believe how lucky he was to have her affections, that she wanted to spend time with him and get to know him more. On more than one occasion, he had wondered if he was dreaming.
"Thank you class, we will continue this tomorrow." Announced Mr Clark, a tall smartly dressed fellow with the cliché teachers glasses.
The students began to quickly wash out and pack up their brushes and paints, eagerly clearing up to leave the campus for the day. It was during this rush that Cora stepped aside the canvas, drying some of her brushes with a ragged cloth as she looked over her work. She didn't notice him as he stepped in slightly and leaned on the door frame, hiding the flowers behind his back in an attempt to act casual and cool as he watched her with a fond crooked smirk on his lips.
Cora's hair was pinned up today, keeping it tidy and out of her way whilst she created, but a small piece had worked it's way out and rested gently on her forehead. She wore a brown paint-spattered smock over her clothes that was oversized and rolled up at the cuffs. Her delicate hands were slightly stained with red paint, and he spotted the slightest smudge of blue near her brow. She was a beautiful picture of how an artist should be.
She dropped her now clean brushes into a wooden case that rested on a small stool beside her, and was about to pick up some more to dry when she glanced towards the door. She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening with surprise as a bright smile appeared on her graceful face. Steve nodded a little and calmly waved once from his position at the door, before stuffing his hand back into his pocket and continuing to wait for her patiently.
Her hands rested on her hips as she giggled with disbelief, but then she suddenly realised she was still wearing the unflattering smock. Her smile disappeared as she rushed behind the canvas in embarrassment, which made Steve chuckle.
When she re-emerged, the smock was gone to reveal a cream shirt tucked into the waistband of her skirt. The students and teacher had left now, and the art room was silent apart from the gentle clicking of her heels on the wooden floor as she strolled over to him, cleaning off her hands on a damp cloth as she walked.
"Well this is certainly a surprise." She giggled, stopping just in front of him as he stood up straight to greet her. Unexpectedly, she placed a sweet kiss on his cheek that made him forget where he was for a second. "You didn't have to come all this way though."
Steve smiled, trying to hold back the blush from her kiss and the rapid beats of his chest, "Well after you told me about your class last night, I couldn't help myself. I thought perhaps I could take you out for an early dinner before the movie."
"I'd like that."
"Great. Oh here..." Steve whipped out the fresh bunch of flowers from behind his back, presenting her with a sweet bouquet of red carnations and soft white gypsophila. "I saw these on my way here and... well... I thought you would like them so..."
"They're beautiful." She smiled, gently accepting the flowers and brushing over his hand in the process. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
There was a moment of comfortable silence and he enjoyed her blush as she smelt her flowers. It was then that he noticed the blue smudge on her forehead again.
"Just a sec, don't move." He said, digging into his pocket to bring out a white cotton handkerchief.
Cora did as he asked, watching with a curious smile as he reached up with the very familiar handkerchief and wiped it over her brow a few times.
"I don't think you'd forgive me if I let you walk around with that all evening." He grinned, showing her the bright blue streak that stood out on the cloth, making her chuckle.
"I have no idea how that could have gotten there!" She smiled. "Thank you."
"Artist's enthusiasm, I guess."
Cora giggled, watching as he folding the handkerchief around the paint mark, glimpsing her embroidered initials before he put it back in his pocket, "I didn't know you carried it around with you."
Steve blinked a little with realisation, the embarrassment trying to seep in to heat his face, "Oh... I... erm... I mean it's..."
"Breathe." She interrupted fondly. "I actually think it's rather sweet."
Steve chuckled under his breath, looking down at his feet in nervous habit.
"Well, I should only be a minute." She said, taking pity on him and his blushing cheeks to change the subject before she hurried back over to her easel. "I just need to pack away my things then we can go."
"Can I help?" Steve offered, slowly following her over and relieved for her obvious sympathy. He really hadn't thought about revealing that he kept her handkerchief with him.
"Erm... Yes, if you wouldn't mind, could you dry off those brushes on the easel, please?" She replied as she placed the flowers on the bench behind her workplace and took the paint pallet to the sink to wipe it down quickly.
Steve picked up the damp cloth and was reaching for the brushes when his eyes were snatched by the artwork before him. He straightened up slowly, fixed by the wonderful array of deep and warm colours that swept across the canvas in a bold interpretation of the statue at the centre of the room.
"Do you like it?" She whispered suddenly behind him to make him jump a little with a smile.
"It's wonderful." He replied.
"We were meant to choose a colour palette and recreate the statue, whilst trying to convey an emotion or personality trait at the same time."
"Which one did you choose?"
"Heroism and courage."
Steve grinned, "It's perfect."
"Thank you. Come on, let's get some dinner otherwise we might miss the movie."
Quickly packing up her brushes and paints in her leather satchel, she pulled on her tan wool coat and did up the buttons as Steve politely swung her satchel onto his shoulder to carry it for her. She smiled her thanks as she picked up her flowers and purse from the work bench, slipped her arm through his as his hand once again dung itself into his pocket, and strode out of the art room with the excitement of another evening together.
The sky was pitch and speckled with a blanket of glistening stars above New York. The air was gentle and chilled, the sounds of the city an easy thrum that was neither imposing nor quiet. Steve and Cora were enjoying it all and each others company as they strolled along the street pavements past bright bar windows, street lamps and cruising cars.
Their early dinner had been wonderfully filled with conversation and blushing gazes from time to time, which amused them to no end. The new movie had proven to be a romance, and they both couldn't help but smile fondly and bashfully at each other when something particularly passionate or loving happened. Steve hadn't plucked up the courage to take her hand though, as was cinema tradition it seemed. Even though he was almost certain she wouldn't have minded, one part of him still saw that giant step as being terrifying to attempt and risk rejection. Instead, he settled for the fresh aura of her perfume, her warmth against his arm and their shared glances.
All in all, it had been a superb night.
"I felt a little sorry for her." Cora discussed about the film as they casually walked arm in arm, her flowers still cradled in her free arm along with her purse. "She really did love him, but his rejection was the thing that sent her over the edge in a way. It made her emotions desperate and twisted."
"True, but she lost sight of what it means to love." Steve agreed with a sympathetic smile. "It's tragic really. No-one should be rejected like that, it's harsh."
"It was, but on the other hand would it have been harsher for him to pretend he loved her too? In a way, I guess he did her a service with being honest, but he went about it in a typically brutish manner that I don't agree with."
"Typically?" Steve asked with a quizzical smirk.
"Oh I don't mean that all men are brutish, of course." She giggle apologetically. "Some are just extraordinarily dim when it comes to emotions. Present company excluded."
"Thanks." He chuckled with her. "I like to think I've had my share of rejection so I know how not to deal it back at others."
Cora squeezed his arm reassuringly, "Their loss is my gain."
Steve grinned at her before looking back down at his shoes to hide again.
"I really did enjoy myself tonight." Cora smiled, taking mercy on him and changing the subject a little. His shyness was sweet, but she hoped that one day he would feel completely comfortable around her.
"Me too."
Cora looked down the street with a content smile, but slowly it dissipated to be replaced with a concerned thought. It was a constant ache in the back of her mind as to how she would deal with it, if she had to at all, but now that they were becoming closer, she felt that she was somehow lying or being purposely false with him, and he didn't deserve that in the slightest.
"What's wrong?" Steve asked gently, feeling her change in demeanour.
"I was just thinking." She replied with a soft smirk that didn't quite reach her eyes. She was uncertain if she should share her secret, despite how keeping it from him made her feel. She was frightened he may react badly, maybe even see her differently.
"You know you can talk to me if something is bothering you."
"I know."
"And I won't judge you for it."
"I wouldn't be so sure." She retorted with a joking smile.
"There isn't anything you can say, Cora, that will change the way I see you." He reassured her more strongly.
"Thank you." She smiled in return, moving a little closer to hold his arm with both hands for courage, amused at how he had somehow intuitively answered one of her concerns. "I suppose I should tell you."
"I wouldn't dream of pressuring you if you're not ready to share..."
"Oh I know that, Steve..."
"I just want you to be happy." He finished.
"I know that too." She smiled at him again, looking him in the eyes this time. "But you need to know this about me."
"Alright."
Cora took a deep breath and closed her eyes to muster up some courage, "As you know, I moved to New York about a year ago to study."
"From England yeah...?!" He asked even though he knew the answer. Steve was just trying to make her feel at ease with inquisitive encouragement. How bad could this confession be after all?
"Right. But you don't know the why." She took another deep breath again and bit the bullet. "I was engaged."
Steve immediately halted and stared with shock.
Engaged? He could barely believe it, could barely allow himself to accept it. Engaged? With a man? How is that possible? Was she still engaged? And if she was, was her fiancée in the army and their time together over the last few days was just a past-time to get over her loneliness? Did Cora really like him in the same way he liked her? Had he been kidding himself all this time?
"Steve, wait, please let me finish!" Cora hurriedly asked, holding onto him desperately with the slight fear that he may just turn away from her and walk. "I was engaged."
"Oh." Steve relaxed a little when his hopeful brain latched onto the emphasis she placed on the past tense of her statement, though the surprise of it was still present in his slightly stiff demeanour.
"Can we walk, please? If you still want me to tell you that is." She asked with a small nervous plea in her gaze. Steve nodded as he couldn't quite get any words out at that moment.
They began to stroll again in silence. Steve should have guessed that she had been attached before, I mean she was beautiful and amazing, of course she would have been snatched up at the earliest opportunity. He just hadn't thought about it.
"His name was Harry." She continued, a little quieter. "He was the son of an English politician and just as proud as his father. He was different when we met, he was carefree in a way. But as we grew up, his father's influence began to loom over him. He began to be obsessed with success and moving within advantageous circles to improve his social status. He proposed to me and it was foolish of me to accept but I didn't know what else to do at the time. And I suppose I still had hope that the old Harry was in there somewhere."
Steve listened carefully, steadily growing a dislike to her ex and feeling the bitter sting of jealousy trying to build. He batted it down though, refusing to be that kind of man.
"I became decoration for him, introduced at parties but barely listened to if I wanted to join in an intellectual conversation with the men in the room. When I told him that I wanted to study art, he simply scoffed at it, saying it was idiotic. Then I had my accident."
"Your accident?" Steve suddenly found his voice at those words, his brow furling with worry as he looked at her.
"I was hit by a car." She said. "Doctors said that I was lucky to be alive. Unfortunately, I... suffered with the consequences afterwards."
"What do you mean?"
"Harry was now..." Her hesitation with her words showed Steve that it was a painful memory for her to tell. "He was now with a woman who became the centre of gossip within those circles that he cherished so much, and it wasn't nice or complementary, or even sympathetic chatter. As he put it, Harry was now the only 'useful and functional side of the coin'."
Steve saw the small tear roll down her cheek though her words were not affected as she tried to not look him in the eye. Biting on his insecurities for what he was about to do, his free hand slowly came to rest on top of hers as she held his arm for comfort. However, silently inside, he boiled with anger from Harry's cruel words about her. How could he have possibly been so grotesquely dismissive and harsh to one of the greatest women he had ever met?
"For a long time he had an image of himself being this perfect politician with the perfect wife and a perfect son to carry his name. And now that I couldn't fulfil that dream... I..."
Steve sighed with realization and sympathy, "I'm sorry, Cora."
"The doctors said that if by some miracle I managed to conceive then I would most likely miscarry during the first trimester, or the poor thing would be still-born."
"I'm so sorry."
"I've come to live with it." She smiled softly and sadly at him. "After that news, he left and began to spread the rumour that I had become angry and bitter after my accident, and he couldn't cope anymore. It put him in a sympathetic light for the distinguished masses that he cared about."
"Couldn't you have set the record straight?"
"Harry had been the one that mattered to them. They wouldn't believe me even if I had tried."
"Bastards." Steve said under his breath before he could stop himself, and was immediately distraught by his language in front of her. "Sorry, I didn't..."
"It's okay." She chuckled. "They were."
Steve smiled in return, glad to see her brightening from the gloom of her story, "So then you decided to move here?"
"Yes. I spent a little while with my parents to recuperate, then I decided to make a fresh start and chase my dream regardless. I was fortunate as my family is fairly wealthy back in England and they were able to support me with it. They had begged me to stay there to study, but I explained that I wanted to get away from all the idle gossip that I knew would follow me. So I applied to NYU and I was accepted. Haven't looked back since."
"Well... you're certainly building a list." Steve smirked.
"A list?"
"Well you're already beautiful, intelligent, kind and talented. Now you've just added incredibly brave."
Cora blushed with a shy chuckle, squeezing his arm a little which he rather enjoyed. He had also noticed that she hadn't moved her hands away from his, and were still resting beneath his fingers.
"By the way, for what it's worth..." He said gently. "You would have made a wonderful mother."
"Thank you." She replied genuinely, gazing at his sweet blue eyes as they walked slowly.
However, they really should have been more alert as they passed a black alley.
A pair of arms suddenly shot out of the darkness to wrench Cora from Steve, her flowers dropping to the pavement as she was pinned back against the assailant's body to threaten her with a knife near her throat, dragging her backwards into the darkness to make Steve follow and get out of sight of the main road.
"Let her go!" Steve exclaimed.
"Money. Now." He demanded, a woollen mask obscuring his features as he stood in the gloom.
Steve was shocked and worried to death for Cora, but he didn't hesitate as he ferreted in his pockets for the small bundle of notes, "Easy now. It's fine, just... just be careful with that blade there."
"Hurry up!" He demanded, tugging on Cora for emphasis to make her jump.
Her eyes were slightly panicked as she breathed deeply, not daring to move whilst the knife was so close to her neck. She watched at Steve did the only thing he could, obviously not wanting to get her harmed out of pride. She knew that he might have tried to take him on otherwise. He was that sort of guy. He would have fought out of principle.
"Here." Said Steve, inching forward to hand the mugger the roll of money, which he snatched quickly and pocketed, returning his grip around her chest and shoulders. "Okay, you've got everything I have, now just let her go. Carefully."
"Empty your satchel."
Steve did as he asked regretfully, unbuckling the straps and upturning the bag to let the contents clatter to the floor, "It's just art supplies, worthless to you."
"Your watch!" He demanded, getting more agitated. With a small sigh Steve complied, knowing that this mugger just may not ever be satisfied. And that could be bad news. "And you, princess. Your purse."
"She doesn't have anything." Steve said desperately, trying to save her dignity. "It's just make-up in there."
"Nice try, putz." He said, tugging on her again.
She slowly passed the small purse to Steve, her hand shaking slightly but her eyes not holding much fear of her attacker. Steve gently took it and shook the contents onto the floor, revealing that there was only make-up, a small mirror, a set of keys and a few dollars in there after all.
"See." Said Steve, trying his best to remain calm and ease the situation away from violence. "She doesn't have anything for you, now just let her go and we'll leave it at that."
"Oh I don't know." He replied in a slimy tone of voice as he lowered his concealed face to her neck and took in a deep breath of her perfume. Steve saw her physically repulsed, and he could feel the rage building in him at his threatening behaviour, his hands instinctively curling into fists. "I think she might have something I'd like. And I think she might like it too, right darling?"
"Over my dead body." She responded, trying to struggle.
"Not a problem for me."
Cora screamed as he suddenly wrenched her back and started to drag her deeper into the darkness of the alley and further away from the street lights.
"Hey hey hey!" Exclaimed Steve, launching after them, "Let her go!"
"Stay right there, hero!" He smugly threatened as Cora struggled against him. "It's not like you were gonna' get this tail anyway."
Steve moved to rush him from the sheer anger he felt at the idea of him all over her.
"I said..." Began the mugger as he turned and faced Steve, threatening him with the knife. But that was his mistake, and Cora used that moment to her advantage.
Grabbing his restraining hand, she slammed the heel of her shoe into his foot, making him yelp as she rammed her head back into his nose, then bit his wrist savagely.
Steve used the time to grab the arm that held the knife, trying his utmost to get him to drop the blade, but he was ultimately too weak to force it. He was only just managing to keep the weapon away from Cora as she tried to free herself.
The mugger shouted with pain and anger, snatching his vice-like arm away from Cora's teeth to grab a hand full of her hair, throwing her away to collide harshly with a wall.
Steve was then punched in the gut and kneed in the crotch, but still he held onto the guy's wrist... Until he was punched square in the face and was sent sailing back into some garbage cans to lie unconscious in the grime.
"Steve!" Cora screamed with worry and panic for him as she pushed herself from the floor using the wall. She could feel a small hot trickle snaking down towards her right brow.
She watched as the mugger turned away from him, satisfied that he wouldn't be interrupted, his smug face partially hidden by a mask as he looked down at her.
Cora's sight moved from the unconscious body of her date, slowly up to glare at his attacker in the low light of the filthy alley. Her teeth were clenched with restraint, her lips slightly trembling with a silent snarl as her eyes filled with wrath.
"Steve? Steve, can you hear me?"
An angelic voice was beckoning to him as he gently pulled away from the blackness of sleep. He blinked a few times, his eyes trying to adjust to the darkness to see her divine face hovering over him, her soft hands resting either side of his jaw. Her wonderful eyes now held an air of worry in them. Was she worried about him?
"Cora?" He mumbled slightly, widening his eyes for a moment to try and clear his woozy head.
"It's me." She smiled with a sigh. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." Unsteadily, he pushed himself to sit up, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders now as if ready to support him. "Are you okay?"
"I'm alright."
"Where is he?" He asked, looking around but seeing no sign of the attacker except the strewn contents of her purse and satchel.
"He ran off when he heard police sirens. We were lucky."
"I'm sorry..."
"Don't." She interrupted, her hand coming to rest on his neck to gently stroke his jawline. "Come on. We should get you somewhere safe, you may have a concussion. Do you think you can walk?"
"Yeah, I think so." He said, struggling to his feet with her help and that of the wall. He dusted off his trousers and wiped away some of the blood from beneath his nose, trying to bury the shame and embarrassment.
"We can get a cab to my apartment." She said gently, brushing aside his floppy hair from his face. "Hospital won't do much for a dizzy head and bloody nose, but at least we can get you cleaned up."
Steve's heart stuttered and flustered at the idea of going to her apartment, and he tried to keep the instinctive side of his thoughts under control.
He watched as she quickly gathered up all the scattered belongings, carelessly dropping and pushing it all in to squeeze into the satchel before she holstered it on her shoulder and looked around quickly as if checking to make sure she hadn't missed anything. Steve could have just been imagining it, of course, what with being concussed, but she seemed almost... panicked but clear and methodical in her search, as if she were hunting for clues. Or not wanting to leave any.
"Don't worry about it." He said, figuring she was trying to find something of his. "Whatever it is I'm sure we can survive without it. Unless it's your keys."
Cora smiled, walking over to him as she adjusted the bag strap, "No, I have those. I was just making sure I hadn't missed anything. Now, let's get you home."
Steve smiled affectionately as she slipped under his arm and circled one of hers around his waist, trying to be a support for him should he need it. They walked out of the alley, scanning the street up and down before she spotted a passing taxi and waved it down frantically.
"Wait, just a sec." He said, carefully unravelling himself from her arm to slowly bend down to the pavement and retrieve the last thing she had dropped.
Cora smiled tenderly as he sweetly presented her once again with her bouquet of flowers, sniffing slightly against nose bleed. He smirked apologetically as some of the flowers were broken or squashed, but Cora accepted them back without question as the taxi pulled up.
"Here we are." She said, gently releasing his arm to open the door to her apartment and lead him inside.
Steve looked about curiously as he slowly followed her, stopping in a short hallway as she closed and locked the door behind them. Even though his head was pounding and his stomach ached, he still felt nervous about being in her home, not only because of the obvious implications that could potentially unfold or be implied by others, but because it was so much grander than his modest abode. He felt a little out of place.
"Come on in." She invited, walking past him to drop her purse and satchel on a leather chair and turn on a few table lamps. She then went to the kitchen to place the flowers in the sink and light the stove to heat some water in the kettle.
Steve's hands found his pockets again as he slowly followed her into the lounge of the apartment, gazing around at the stylish space whilst being surrounded in the same magnificent scent that he associated with her. It floated in the air like a spring breeze, and he wished he could somehow bottle it.
Though the walls were the same cream colour as the building's halls, there were warm paintings tastefully adorning them, one large landscape in particular hanging above a rosewood gramophone unit with two large windows either side which he imagined would light up the room in the daytime. The floor was a dark wood and spotless, the couch and seats matching with a soft brown leather as they were arranged to face each other towards the small coffee table at the centre.
There were two bookcases against one wall that led to the short hallway, both filled with knowledge and records for the gramophone. There were wooden sideboards against other walls that housed family photographs in elegant frames, and standing in the corner by the window was a tall artist's easel which was empty of a canvas for now.
Straight off the lounge was an open kitchen, simple and clean but seemingly housing all the modern amenities possible for an apartment building. There was a small wooden dining table in the middle of the kitchen space, acting both as an eating and cooking surface with two matching chairs tucked underneath.
Just off to the right of there were two doors. One was closed which he imagined to be the gleaming bathroom, and the other which was closet to him was opened up to show her bedroom within. Steve swallowed reflexively as he saw her large soft double bed. There were no windows which would allow for a lot of privacy, but he stopped his amorous train of thoughts immediately when he realised that fact in particular. However, he allowed himself a small crooked smile when he saw the Coney Island bear that he had won for her was propped up neatly against her pillows.
"You don't have to stand, you know." Cora smiled from the kitchen as she wiped a damp cloth over her forehead, waiting for the kettle to whistle. She refolded the cream cloth to hide the blood from her head wound and wipe her skin again with a clean part, but this did not go unnoticed from Steve, who had not even seen her injury. It must have been hidden under her hair and by the darkness of the evening, but still he cussed silently for his lack of observation.
"You're hurt." He said, marching into the kitchen. "Are you alright?"
"Oh yes, I'm fine." She replied with a small smile as he brushed back her hair slightly to see. She breathed deep as she faced him, trying her best to remain calm even though he was very close to pressing against her. There were definitely moments when he forget his shyness, it seemed. "It's just a small cut. Looks worse that it is."
Steve gently took the damp cloth from her and began to dab at the small gash just beneath her hairline, seeing how a sore lump was forming and would be a bruise by tomorrow, "You should have said something."
"And you, sir..." She retorted with a grin as she took the cloth back, the kettle whistling in the background. She needed to step back from him and his affectionate care before she did something that was far too bold to contemplate after only a few days of knowing each other, "Worry far too much over so little. You are in worse shape than I am, so go and sit down."
Steve quickly side stepped her to remove the kettle from the heat and turn off the stove. He then looked down at his filthy clothes, stained from the grime of the alley and the trash he had landed amongst, "I don't want to get your furniture dirty."
Cora just chuckled as she collected a clean cloth, put a little cold water in a bowl from the tap and then added hot water from the kettle before dropping the cream cloth in to soak, "Take a seat, Steve."
He smiled gratefully, walking back over to the lounge with his hands in his pockets and carefully chose a spot in the middle of the couch, but decided to sit on the edge and lean on his knees rather than relax back so to minimise the chance of staining the leather.
The sudden sounds on unusual clinking against the wooden floor grabbed his attention to look up in time to see her shaking off her shoes before she picked up the bowl and walked over to him. He blinked when she sat on the wooden coffee table directly in front of him, placing the bowl of water next to her.
Steve's stomach tossed a little, his mouth feeling drier from being in such close company, his knitted fingers as he leant forward almost able to brush against her knees if they were so familiar with one another to allow him. It only made things more nervous for him when she scooted a little closer, her legs pretty much between his own knees, then gently cupped his jaw and began to tenderly wipe away the remnants of blood from his face with a warm damp cloth.
He was frozen, locked in a soft gaze as he watched her carefully tend to him without once seeming exasperated or repulsed. From time to time she would wash out the cloth in the bowl and ring out the water before returning to his face, checking around his hairline for any more wounds. Finally she slipped her free hand into one of his without a word and wiped the cloth over the back of his hand to clean off the blood and dirt.
"I'm sorry." He said quietly, making her look up at him curiously. "I should have done more to protect you."
"Don't." She said, interrupting him before he could say more as her nursing halted to look at him with sincerity and seriousness. "What happened was not your fault."
"But it would have been if he had seriously hurt you." He responded in turn.
"He didn't." She smiled reassuringly, squeezing his hand gently, her thumb slowly brushing over his skin. His heart, of course, was racing at the affectionate contact. "Thanks to you. You kept me safe, even if you don't think so."
"He knocked me out, Cora. That isn't safe."
"I'm here, aren't I?"
"Out of sheer luck." He retorted, his shame beginning to burn more now as he thought of what the mugger could have done to her whilst he was unconscious. "If it wasn't for the sirens scaring him off, he would have..."
Steve couldn't finish his sentence, his anger building at his weakness. His head bowed to try and calm himself. Why must he be this way? Why must he be so sickly and scrawny? He knew he was meant to be better than this, meant for more! How could he deserve her if he couldn't even help when she needed him the most?!
"Steve." She whispered, her silken voice so close to his ear that it made him freeze as his eyes shot open with surprise. He dared not move, only look down at their hands that were still entwined, not wanting to cause her to move further away and take her soft scent with her. "I'm here, and I'm okay. And that's because of you."
Cora gently sat back enough to direct his face up to look at her. She smiled gently, her guiding hand sweeping from his chin to brush along his jawline and hold his heated cheek.
"If I was alone tonight, it may have turned out very different. You were smart, and brave, and you saved my life. Thank you."
Her smile was beautifully tender, filled with appreciation and affection as she looked him in the eyes, unfaltering and locked in the moment. As Steve continued to hold her gaze, his heart thundering in his chest as he felt her hand tightly in his, it was strange for him to think that he had only met her three days ago. They were so attuned, so trustful with one another that he was sure that anyone else might think of them as a couple for years. He knew that it was risky to fall for a dame so wholeheartedly after so short a time, but he couldn't stop himself. Steve was falling for her hard, and as she gazed back at him he began to have hope that she just might feel the same for him too. Miracles really did happen it seemed.
"It's getting late." Cora smiled shyly as she looked away and scooted back, standing to pick up the bowl with the bloodied cloth, with Steve politely getting to his feet as well.
"Right." He replied, a little too enthusiastically from nerves, his hands instantly sinking into his pockets. "I should probably go."
"Well, you're more than welcome to stay on the couch if you like." She offered, holding onto the bowl for comfort. She was a little out of practice with this sort of thing. It had been a very long time since a man had been in her apartment so late, never mind with the possibility of still being there in the morning, even if nothing intimate happened between them.
Steve couldn't help the bright grin that spread over his lips, though he bowed his face a little to try and hide it, "I would like to, but I wouldn't want to cause any rumours. Who knows what people might come up with."
Cora giggled, a little disappointed whilst also being relieved at the same time. She suddenly realised now that it may have been a step too far and too soon. She didn't want to rush and jump into something they weren't ready for yet. Fortunately, Steve was a gentleman.
"I hadn't thought of that." She smiled.
"If I'm honest, I'm kinda' wishing that I hadn't." He admitted with a chuckle.
"Are you going to be alright getting home?"
"Oh yeah, I'll get a cab or walk or something." He replied, his hand shooting out of his pocket with nervous hand gestures before retreating to his pocket once more.
"You'll need money then." She suddenly said, putting the bowl back down on the coffee table to hurry over to the satchel on the chair.
"Oh no no, I'll be fine, really." Steve tried to protest as she brought out some crumpled notes from the bag, folded them and tried to hand them to him.
"It's your money, Steve." Cora smirked.
His brow furrowed with confusion, "The mugger left it behind?"
"I... I guess so." She replied, the slight nervousness and hesitation not missed on him.
"Cora." He smiled fondly, figuring that she was telling a little white lie to get him to accept her cash. "I don't want your money."
"Oh really?" She quirked, purposely teasing him with a little crude suggestion to distract him and lighten the mood.
"You know what I mean." He chuckled, trying desperately to control the heat of his body from her joke.
"Please, take it." She asked gently, stepping towards him to close the distance. "You may still have a woozy head and I won't sleep knowing you're walking home so late at night."
He sighed, his resolve crumbling with her sincere request.
"Please, Steve. For me." She smiled gently, pulling his hand out from his pocket and placing the money in his palm to close his fingers around it.
"One day, that smile may topple empires." He joked, enjoying the feel of her hand around his once again. "Use it wisely."
Cora giggled, "I will, trust me."
They stood there in silence, once again cocooned in a haze of attraction and nerves. It was too soon, they both knew it. They could wait.
Steve cleared his throat politely and stepped back, trying with all his resolve to not think of a brilliant reason to stay after all.
"I'll show you out." She said gently, walking over to the door to unlock it.
Steve followed her, stepping out to stand in the hallway as she leant alluringly on her door jam.
"Are you sure you're alright to get home?" She asked, her arms crossed casually over her bossom, her auburn hair cascading over her right shoulder.
"Yeah, I'm sure." He replied, his hands finding his pockets. "You know, mugging aside, I really did have a great night, Cora."
"Me too." She smiled in return, brushing her waving hair behind one ear. "And thank you, for being so understanding."
Steve's brow furrowed as a small fond smirk tweaked his lips, "No need to thank me. I told you there was nothing you could say that would change anything."
Cora couldn't help herself, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms about his neck and shoulders, holding him tightly in her embrace as she fought back the threatening wetness in her happy eyes.
Steve smiled, hesitating for a moment before his hands slipped out of his pockets and gently pulled her closer to him, throwing caution to the wind considering the events of the evening. His palms lay flat to her back between her shoulder blades and at the base of her spine, and he fought back the reflexive quiver when he realised he could feel her suspender belt beneath her clothes. She smelt divine, her perfume rising from her warm smooth neck that was close enough to kiss.
"Then thank you for being you." She whispered, a hand coming to rest on his jaw before she placed a tender kiss on his cheek.
Steve's heart hitched and he concentrated on cold thoughts whilst trying to revel in the softness of her lips. The kiss was longer than any she had given him before, seemingly filled with all her affection and gratitude and sweetness, and when she pulled back from it he could still feel her warmth on his skin.
"Don't ever change." She added quietly, her beautiful face remaining next to his own.
"Yes, ma'am." He replied, making her giggle with familiarity as he smiled.
Remaining silent in one another's arms, their cheeks almost pressed together as neither of them wanted to part, Steve found some of his courage to try something.
"There's a sort of Future fayre tomorrow night." He said softly. "I don't suppose you would like to go with me...?"
"I'd love to." She smiled, enjoying how tenderly yet securely he held her. His hands, though smaller than most men due to his size, felt strong and kindly on her back, and she couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like if he caressed her face or neck.
"Good." He replied with a small laugh and sigh of relief. "'cos I think my heart was trying to leap up my throat."
Cora giggled, her head bowing to rest on his shoulder for a moment at his joke, before returning to their intimate company once again. She really did enjoy his humour.
"I'll come by and pick you up." He said. "Around seven?"
"Seven is fine."
"Okay." He said, it was all he could manage to say as he got closer to the moment where he needed his nerve the most.
"Good night, Steve." Said Cora softly.
Here it was! It was now or never!
"Good night..." He replied, grabbing onto his mettle inside him before slowly and gently placing a warm kiss on her cheek.
His eyes slipped shut as he heard her gasp ever so lightly but didn't move away from him as he lingered on her soft skin for a moment. In fact he felt her head tilt towards him with appreciation, her cheek rising a little into a shy smile before he slowly parted from her.
"Cora." He finished in a deep whisper, and he thought it might have been his imagination but she may have even quivered slightly beneath his hands.
He stepped back, his hold slipping across her back to respectfully hold her waist as her hands rested on his shoulders, their joyful gazes locked to each other with bashful glee before they both chuckled together at their almost child-like reactions to the brief spark of intimacy.
Cora had a wonderful blush of soft pink over her cheeks that he could be proud of as she gently backed out of his hold and went back inside her apartment, lingering in the doorway as his hands found his pockets. They smiled at each other, watching each other with no words able to capture their emotions and thoughts and do them justice, until finally the door clicked shut and they were parted for the evening.
Steve grinned widely, looking down at his shoes as he walked along the hallway to the elevator, unable to restrain his glee that his small act of affection that had taken so much courage for him to do had turned out so brilliantly. She had been truly thrilled and intimately attracted to him in that moment. He could still recall her gasp and quiver clearly.
Perhaps tomorrow, if he could muster up his nerve again, he might even offer her his hand to hold rather than his arm.
Pressing the button for the elevator, he sighed as he waited patiently, his head lolling back with contentment. It had been one hell of a night. If he had to imagine what the evening would have entailed when he woke up, he never would have guessed right. Still, he was just thoroughly grateful that it had ended so well, and safely.
Steve pulled out the folded notes from his pocket, checking to see if he had enough money to get a cab home. Even though he was pretty much flying in the clouds right now, his head and stomach still kind of ached. He unravelled the notes, counting as he did, and stopped when he reached a particular five dollar bill. Looking at it closely, his brow creased with thought and confusion as he recognized the distinctive tear through the dead presidents face, as he had actually noticed it this morning.
Looking at the note in his hand, and then the rest of the money, Steve realised that the roll was his after all. Yet that made no sense. He had handed the money to the mugger, watched him pocket it. There was no way he could have dropped it or would have left it behind if he did somehow, but this bill was definitely his own. It was too much of a coincidence for Cora to have a five dollar note with a tear exactly in the same place.
So, how did she get the money?