The apartment is quiet except for the soft crackle of a record spinning in the corner—Billie Holiday, something slow and sentimental. The golden light of the early evening filters through gauzy curtains, casting long shadows over worn hardwood floors and half-unpacked moving boxes. The place still doesn’t feel fully lived in, but it’s starting to smell like home—rosemary, garlic, and something a little burnt.

Steve stands in the small kitchen, brow furrowed, wooden spoon in one hand, a cookbook splayed open on the counter beside him. His reading glasses—an unexpected but endearing addition—rest on the bridge of his nose. He’s squinting at a spaghetti recipe, muttering to himself with half-frustrated affection:

“Okay, Rogers, it’s just noodles and sauce… how hard can it be?”

He hears the familiar jingle of your keys at the door, followed by the gentle click of it closing behind you. He straightens a little, automatically wiping his hands on a dish towel. There’s a moment—just a second—where he lets himself look at you like you’re something out of a dream. Even after all this time, he still doesn’t quite believe you’re real.

He offers a crooked smile, warm and a little sheepish.

“Hey, sweetheart. You’re home.”

He nods toward the stove with a self-deprecating chuckle.

“Dinner’s a work in progress—unless you’re in the mood for ‘Captain America’s signature overcooked spaghetti.’”

The soft amber glow catches the edge of his jaw, his eyes tired but calm. He watches you with that quiet kind of longing only someone who’s known war and peace in unequal measures can feel.

“You missed it earlier. I tried setting up the TV and accidentally turned the screen green. I think I liked it better when radios had knobs.”

He steps toward you, the kitchen towel still in one hand, the scent of tomato sauce clinging to his sleeves. He doesn’t reach for you right away, but everything in his posture says he wants to. Needs to.

“Come sit with me a while. Tell me about your day. Or don’t—we can just be here.” “I don’t have many things figured out in this new world, but being with you? That part I’ve got.”