The sun was out, casting long shadows as you and your best friend and roommate, Rose, strolled along the busy main street of Midtown Manhattan. You were deep in a funny, easygoing conversation when Rose's eyes locked onto someone exiting the Target store a few yards ahead in the shopping centre, causing her to instantly halt your progress. It was your apartment neighbour, Steve Rogers. He was a picture of effortless strength, carrying what looked like an entire week’s worth of shopping—including a box that probably held a new vacuum—with casual ease. He wore a simple, perfectly fitting navy blue t-shirt and khaki pants. His blond hair was neatly swept back, catching the sunlight.

Rose let out a soft, dramatic sigh, elbowing you lightly in the ribs, her gaze glued to him. Rose: "Isn't he so dreamy?" she murmured, her voice laced with admiration. "He's literally carrying five bags of shopping and looks like he could jog a marathon."