You hugged the olive green trench coat closer to your body, as you shook softly from the chill that spread across your skin. The rain poured down heavily around you, making you thankful for the thin yet sustainable tent covering you from the downpour. But the precipitation only made the nipping cold in the wind grow, as the clouds were grey and bleak and the raindrops carried a chill all their own. The wind blew harshly against your skin, the chill taking advantage of any exposed flesh it could find. And although the long--and clearly too big--coat covered you more than your colorful costume ever could, your skin was still left victim to the cold.

But you listened to the soothing sound of the droplets hitting the pavement around you, sounding as though rushing waves slapping softly against the shoreline. It was oddly calming despite the way it made the world around you dreary and drenched in the coldness it brought. And the scent that you breathed in slowly through your nose, as your head tilted back slightly to gaze upon the droplets that fell from the meloncholy sky above, had a surprising tranquil essence to it. For there was a richness; one that was clear and pure and deep. The scent of the Earth, washed of it's impurities until the sun came up the next day and started all over again. Your lungs felt clear as you breathed in a breath of the fresh air, that was saturated with the beautiful nature of the rainfall. 

The soft sound of your heels hitting the floorboards of the stage beneath you, lifted into the pattering rush of the rain. But the sound that seemed loud in the stillness that seemed to settle over the Earth in this moment of peaceful rainfall, didn't faze the figure that sat feet away from you. He was still; his shoulders slouched forward as his feet rested on one of the few steps leading off the stage. Far enough under the protection of the tent that his coat and hair stayed completely dry, but you saw the way the raindrops patterned the toes of his light leather boots. Collecting in droplets until one too many made them slide down the sides, onto the wooden step that had turned darker from the moisture it took on. And carefully, you leaned your left shoulder against one of the far beams as you stayed hidden in the shadows behind the unsuspecting man who, just like you, had just gotten off of the stage. 

His army green coat covered most of the brightly colored outfit that adorned his tan and chiseled physique, but if you tilted your head slightly to the left, you could see the dark blue pants that contoured to his skin. Tucking into the warm brown leather around the base of his calves. And his hair, even from the back, was still slicked back with whatever styling agent they had used on his beautiful blonde locks. There was something about the way he sat here, alone, in only the comfort of the rain and his thoughts, that made you see the man underneath the stars and the stripes. The man that the soldiers in the audience couldn't see, when he was forced to stand before them in a façade created for the people who needed one back home. As the rain fell around him with gusts of soft wind, he looked as though a man in turmoil. And it was with that reason that tugged at your anxiously beating heart, that you took a single step out of the shadows and into his light.

"I didn't know that Captain America could draw."

Your voice seemed like a boom of thunder resonating throughout the sorrow filled sky. And you watched as Steve Rogers's body jolted at your unsuspected presence, but as his head whirled around and his striking blue eyes fell upon you, his expression softened. His eyebrows rose a fraction as you watched his forehead crease in surprise, and his eyes seemed to twinkle with a glimmer of the light that the world around you was missing.

"Hi." His tone was soft, breathless as though still in shock that you were standing behind him, seeking him out. And you smiled softly at his sheepish greeting that made a butterfly begin to dance in the pit of your stomach. 

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." You spoke gently, but as soon as your words reached Steve's ears he shook his head and laid the pencil that was between his fingers, down in the open pages of the leather back journal resting on his knees. The pages were worn and slightly discolored along their creased edges, and they fluttered softly in the faint breeze that accompanied the somber rainfall. And even as his body covered most of the pages that lay open and still across his lap, your eyes traced over the outlines of pencil that ran over the paper, trails of lead bringing the emotions hidden within Captain America himself, out into light.

"Not at all." Steve answered instantly, his words sincere and his tone soft like a timid whisper. And you wondered, as you watched the way his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed deeply, if perhaps you made him nervous. You saw the way his beautiful blue eyes fought to stay steady on your own gentle gaze, but ultimately and inevitably faltered at times. Dropping to the edge of the glittering blue collar of your sparkly outfit, that stuck out underneath the refuge of the dull colored trench coat. Or the way his eyes rose a little, every so often, running his shimmering eyes over the dense curls that cascaded in ringlets down your shoulders, stiffened by the product used to keep them sleek and without flaw. And in a blink of your eye, you swore you saw his eyes glance across your deep red painted lips. You wondered, as you looked at Steve Rogers who looked alert and still slightly anxious about your sudden presence, if he felt a butterfly or two dancing in his stomach as well.

"May I join you?" You asked softly, your voice seeming boisterous yet again as it broke the silence that had filtered back into the air between you. 

Steve moved over on the step he sat on, making plenty of room for your petite frame, and nodded without hesitation. "Of course."

Your heels sounded like a baseball bat hitting the stage, as they traveled the few steps towards Steve, and you slowly eased down onto the step beside him. Instantly feeling a rush of warmth from the close proximity in which you sat next to the star-spangled hero. And you tried your best to keep your curious eyes from flickering over towards the journal that still remained open on his lap, unsure if the drawings inside were ones he wanted seen by another set of eyes. For you knew some secrets had every right to stay as such.

"You look as somber as the sky," You breathed out gently, and looked to your right to meet Steve's heavy blue eyed gaze. "what's troubling you Steve Rogers?"

The look that flashed within the deep blue of his eyes, was one of faint surprise. As though no one had ever taken the time to sit beside the man and ask what was weighing on his mind, and the reaction that was near imperceptible to most but clear as day to you, saddened you. 

Steve inhaled deeply, before turning his head to gaze down towards his fluttering sketched pages blankly, and releasing the breath that sounded like a lonely gust of wind. 

"For the longest time, this was all I ever wanted. To come over seas, join the front lines, and rightfully fight for my country. I wanted to know that I was here, making a difference no matter how big it might be, but knowing I was doing something. Something for the people who can't fight, like the boy I was back in Brooklyn. Something for the ones who can't be here or the ones who gave their lives here. I wanted to come here and make a difference..." Steve paused suddenly and you watched as he titled his head briefly to the side as he let a breath of air flutter past his lips. The breath released was a mixture of dry, ironic laughter and a deep, exhasted sigh. "and they've got me prancing around a stage in tights."

Your eyes studied the man, as his gaze remained downward towards his knees. His youth shone in every aspect of his appearance, and yet you could see the faint lines that ran across his tanned skin. The clenching of his jaw making his jawline sharpen instantly, and the creases in his forehead spoke of the stress he felt upon his shoulders. Everyone around him saw him as a strong, unbreakable, remarkable man who with the help of a little science, could be unstoppable. And perhaps, physically he was. But they never took in to account that the serum never touched his heart, it never changed the way he felt and perceived the world around him. Steve Rogers still hurt like everyone else, he still worried and felt like an outcast even after the attributes he gained. Steve Rogers was still a human, even if the serum gave him abilities that made him seem more than.

"For the record," You whispered. "you shouldn't base the differences you make on that crowd of soldiers just looking for someone to get a kick out of."

Steve lifted his eyes, and gazed up at you through his lashes. And the blue of his irises peaking through the feather like lashes, was like pulling back low or fallen tree lines to see the breathless blue sky far in the distance. 

"You should base it on the crowds back home, and the crowds all around the country, where you saw the genuine smiles of those watching you. The children that were awestruck to meet a real life hero, whether or not they know that the Adolf you're knocking out isn't the real one. Those people see something in you Steve."

"You're not some monkey dancing it's way across a tightrope," You say clearly and without hesitation as your eyes are so drawn into Steve's blues that you wonder if you'll ever find your way back out. You had tried hard not to look at the pictures drawn across the open pages, but your eyes had failed you as they faltered for a brief moment and caught sight of the sketched circus monkey performing for a crowd, high up on a wavering tightrope. And as you listened to the words Steve shared with you, and saw the unfulfillment in his lost gaze, you recognized the monkey to be the way he saw himself every time he got up on that stage. As though he was nothing more than someone's trained act to amuse and mock, but what he didn't see was the way people really saw him. The way you saw him.

"When those people look at you up there, they see someone they can trust. Someone to give them hope in a time that feels completely hopeless. Someone to make this reality we're all living seem a little less nightmarish." 

"And you," Steve spoke up suddenly, his voice calm and still. "what do you see?"

Your lips twitched faintly, as they began to curl into a soft smile. "I see a good man who just wants to make a difference. Even if it means having to walk around on a stage in a pair of tights."

A/N: This was one of my earliest ideas when I started this book, and I have just now been able to finish it! I wanted this one to be just right. I wanted the descriptions and scene to be set just so, and I wanted the dialogue and moment to be organic and natural and beautiful. And with much time and effort, I finally finished it! It's a little shorter than I had thought it might be, but I'm very happy with the writing for it! I hope you all enjoyed this one, I loved the idea when it came to me all those months and months ago!!❤