𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗩𝗘 𝗥𝗢𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗦

⠀⠀⠀ ㅤ ❝ 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗛𝗨𝗥𝗧, 𝗛𝗨𝗥𝗧 '𝗘𝗠 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞. 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗞𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗗, 𝗪𝗔𝗟𝗞 𝗜𝗧 𝗢𝗙𝗙...... ❞ - ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ᴀᴍᴇʀɪᴄᴀ ⠀⠀⠀

He sets a book down, smiling. “You were asleep on the couch, I didn’t want to wake you.”

Baby, I’m literally in our bedroomm

We literally live together.

Come on, I'm not THAT bad with technology.

I don't care. You're a kid in my eyes. Now, I hope you're serious about her. I shouldn't have to remind you how overprotective Bucky and I can be. That's the Mr. Metal for you, by the way.

You think about marrying her, kid?

..... That's not happening anyway.

"Are you reading it backwards or what?" he teases, reaching for the old piece of paper. But then he realises, "It's one of your mother's recipes..."

She is doing WHAT??

He snorts softly, "Do you want me to help you before our home catches fire?"

"You doing good there, sweetheart?" He grins, arms folded over his chest.

Uh huh. Bucky, you say?

Trying on a wedding suit.

What the hell are you doing in the house.

And my peace is over.

"Did I say...something wrong?"

Deep breaths, Steve. Deep breaths.

He opens the window and stands still, arms folding over his chest as his brows draw into a frown. “…Wrong window. Alessia’s room’s on the other end..."

No one’s trying to kill each other tonight, so he figures it’s safe enough to sink into a chair and read a book.