part 2 because i don't want steve to be sad ): but of course you can still read this as a separate piece of writing if you're not willing to get into the first part's angst ❤️

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Music: Turning Page, Sleeping at Last

"You're going to love it," Steve's lips stretched into a smile as he glanced at you, gently squeezing your hand in tender excitement. Although his 1930's upbringing would always make him self-conscious about touching you in public, those small gestures of affection were authorised, and he would always make sure to have your consent in private, his love for you closely followed by immense respect. You adored his old-fashioned side, softness breaking through strength.

"I don't doubt it," you returned him a warm smile, your chest expanding with relief as you caught a glimpse of the happier expression upon his face.

A pale blue bruise was still staining his clean-shaven jaw, but he had assured you that he was able to leave the apartment, the super-soldier serum already working on healing his decayed body. You hadn't tried changing his mind, because you trusted Steve, and if he had told you that he would be okay, so would it be.

Now the two of you were walking down a familiar alley, heading towards a freshly-built café the blond young man had been wanting to show you for a while. Before leaving, he had changed into a more formal outfit: a white button-up shirt, its sleeves rolled up to the elbow, paired with light brown trousers. You thought he was beautiful, but not only in his looks.

"We're almost there," Steve noted as the frontage of the café, framed by two small chalkboards, arose in the distance.

"You were right, I love it already," you commented, your pace almost speeding up in impatience to get there. To be honest, you were fond of anything linked with hot beverages.

"And I," Steve looked at you, delicate rays of tender longing shining through his iris. "love you."

"Roger that, Rogers" you smiled widely as he chuckled at your response. "I love you too."

Nebulas of exhaustion were still spread out under his eyes, but at least Steve's face seemed devoid of the sharp sadness his sense of loss had engendered a couple hours ago. Crying to his heart's content and cuddling seemed to have done their good.

A few strides later, you reached the coffeeshop, a lovely brown place with many potted plants peaking through window panes and standing outside the building, which added to its peaceful and appealing appearance. The thought of spending your morning there with Steve was enough to enchant you.

Steve pushed the door open, you on his heels, and both of you instantly caught a strong sugary whiff of coffee and pastries, immersed in the comfy atmosphere of the café's interior.

"It smells amazing," Steve couldn't retain an impressed grin, stopping at the entrance to have a better look around.

The waitress, a young freckle-faced woman with light brown hair up in a bun and a septum piercing, came up to you to offer you seats.

"Do you want me to take your orders or should I come up to you a bit later?" she asked welcomingly, glancing at you then Steve. Her eyebrows slightly raising in curiosity, her eyes lingered on his face. "I'm sorry, I don't want to seem invasive, but are you... Famous? I just feel like I've seen you somewhere before...," she wondered before adding sheepishly: "Sorry for asking, you don't have to answer that."

The blonde smiled humbly as he pondered over what to answer, fame still being a surprising concept to him. People usually wouldn't recognize him that often when he wasn't wearing his costume.

"Maybe among the Avengers?"

The young woman's face lighted up as he mentioned the super-hero group, now probably realising who she was talking to as she visualiser Steve in another context, but she cast an interrogative glance at you anyway. You confirmed her assumption with a smile, nodding. You were really proud of Steve and the joy he would bring to everyone recognizing him.

"It's really nice to meet you, Captain" she stated admiringly.

"Likewise," Steve smiled back kindly.

"But I'm sorry," she then added, getting a notebook and a pen out of her beige apron's front pocket. "I should stop bothering you two now. Do you want to order?"

"Dont worry, it's nothing! And yes, please," you replied first, letting Steve time to choose what he wanted. "I'll have a croissant and a large mug of hot chocolate."

"I'm going to have a cup of black coffee and some pancakes with raspberry syrup, please," Steve said, all cute and embarrassed because of how funny Captain America wants raspberry pancakes might sound.

The waitress took your orders, assuring you it wouldn't take long for the food to come, then disappeared into the kitchen after you thanked her. Steve put his elbows on the table, the meek blue of his eyes spilling onto you.

"Thank you for coming," he extended his arms, his hands discreetly reaching for yours.

"I'll always come."

You interlaced your fingers with his, leaning forward, and your mouths met in a mild, spring-morning kiss. Steve softly pressed his thumb against your cheek, breaking his reserve as there was nobody around, while your fingertips brushed the collar of his shirt.

You had to separate as the drinks and plates arrived, their delicious smell drawing your attention although your lips were still electrified from Steve's kiss. Thanking the waitress, you arranged the food on the table, planning on sharing it with the young man.

"Captain America's raspberry pancakes," you gently scoffed as the blonde served himself a slice, pouring fruit syrup all over it.

"Do you want some?" he chuckled, pushing the plate towards you.

"Well," you gave in. "Yes, please. And do you want part of my croissant?" But before he could decline, you tore a piece of it away. "You don't have to be this polite with me" you assured.

"Thank you," Steve smiled and took a bite of the piece of croissant. "That's actually so good."

"Do you want the rest of it?" you offered, actually starting to think it would be more useful to him.

"No no no, keep it. You don't have to be this generous with me," he answered, which made both of you laugh. Steve just made you happy, wholly and truly happy, and there was something beautifully incomprehensible in the way humans made each other feel.

You took a long sip of your hot chocolate, the thick, sweet liquid warming your throat. It was indeed as tasty as it smelled! And Steve's pancakes were just as good, the raspberry syrup (you had to give it to him) being an amazing addition.

"Y/n, there is something I need to tell you," the man then declared after a while, his smile making all the worries such a mysterious sentence could ignite vanish as you lay eyes on it.

"Yes?"

"I talked to Sam," he ran a hand through his hair, the corners of his mouth stretching even wider. "And he convinced me to adopt a dog. A therapy dog of sorts. Y/n, I'm adopting a dog!"

A sudden grin arose upon your features at the news, having certainly not imagined that something like that would happen — you definitely didn't expect this kind of news!

"That's amazing! Have you met the dog already?" you asked, sharing Steve's excitement.

"Yes, but I didn't want to tell you until I was a 100% sure. His name is Dodger, the shelter said I would be able to pick him up next week," Steve's joy was almost making the air buzz; it would be impossible to believe that, only a couple hours ago, he had been going through a wrenching break down. "And I was wondering if you wanted to come and get him with me."

"Of course," you agreed immediately, giving the young man a joyful smile. "I'm always up for some dog aventure!"

"So am I," Steve beamed at you, looking straight into your eyes as if your face was the only thing he was able to see.

You couldn't read Steve's mind, but if you were able to, you would've seen that even though he would forever miss his war best friends, he was ready to rebuild a new life with you.