haplesshairpile | (no subject)

Steve has been moping. Like, pretty hardcore moping. It's kind of pathetic, honestly, but he can't seem to shake himself out of it. He hasn't seen Maeve since their fight, or whatever it was. When he stuck in his foot in his mouth like a dumbass and hurt her unintentionally. He hasn't seen her since he fucked up.

They've texted a little, and had a very brief phone call where Steve attempted to apologize and was probably very bad at it, but that's it. He should probably go see her, but he's too afraid of what will happen if he does.

He's shoved himself into the corner of the couch, wearing a pair of dark blue lounge pants and a white tee, watching some stupid nature documentary when Robin's phone chimes. She very awkwardly gets up and declares that she's suddenly leaving the apartment for no reason, and Steve stares glumly at her while she moves around and grabs her things and pats his head before leaving him alone in their home. Very deliberately.

When the knock at the door comes ten minutes later, Steve isn't exactly surprised. His stomach does seem to bottom out though, sitting there like lead, and he wrinkles his nose and scrubs his hand over his face before getting to his feet.

He's about to get dumped. Somehow he's just sure of it. He made things hard, acted like an idiot, and that means she's going to end things. That's how it goes, and Steve realizes that his lower lip is trembling as he goes over to answer the door. He stops and blows out a breath, swallowing hard and pulling himself together before opening the door.

As expected, Maeve is on the other side. Steve can't help the way that his entire being seems to perk up at the sight of her, only to wither again at the certain fear that he's about to lose her.

"Hey. Come in," he says with a wry smile, stepping aside to make room for her.

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Even as Steve settles, she's still breathing hard. Her skin is damp, beads of sweat at her hairline, between her breasts, and when Steve lies down against her, she runs her fingers through his hair and finds it damp, too. She loves these moments for the first time with him. Before, she'd found them uncomfortable, difficult, she'd wanted to get up and leave.

Moments like this were too vulnerable. She had felt exposed. She still does, but it doesn't scare her as much anymore.

"Hey," she says, her voice soft as she combs her fingers through his hair slowly, nails lightly rubbing against his scalp.

For a long moment, Steve just lays there and listens to her breathing, feels the rise and fall of her chest under his cheek, her fingers in his hair, eyes closed. It's peaceful and nice, and Steve lifts his head when Maeve breaks the comfortable silence.

"Hey, beautiful," he replies with a soft smile, lifting his head to give her a soft kiss on the mouth, cupping her cheek with one hand. "I really love you, y'know."

"I know," she says.

And she does. It isn't something she's always been able to trust, what someone claims they feel for her. Too often, they haven't been able to behave in a way that reflected their words, but Steve does. Steve doesn't just say he loves her, he acts like it, too.

That means more to her than just the words do.

"I love you, too," she murmurs with a small smile.