[ whatever peggy might have expected, it certainly isn't this: flowers, made of paper, and gathered in a little cohort. indeed, before she says anything there is a bouquet hovering between them and it's all she can to do take ownership of those flowers while maintaining her hard-edged poise. why does she maintain it at all? who knows.
it isn't steve rogers's fault that she's made vulnerable by what transpired today. bested on the paintball field, and then the subject of too many conversations. professionally and personally she feels ever so slightly edged-out. (but not by steve -- she allows herself to be more horrified by the amount of people willing to pick up a thread and pull at it than she is by steve's simple and achingly human mistake.)
slowly, she twirls the bouquet between her fingers. ]
Steve Rogers. Giving flowers, to get himself out of the doghouse. [ a low whistle. ] Now, that's a move I didn't anticipate.
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it isn't steve rogers's fault that she's made vulnerable by what transpired today. bested on the paintball field, and then the subject of too many conversations. professionally and personally she feels ever so slightly edged-out. (but not by steve -- she allows herself to be more horrified by the amount of people willing to pick up a thread and pull at it than she is by steve's simple and achingly human mistake.)
slowly, she twirls the bouquet between her fingers. ]
Steve Rogers. Giving flowers, to get himself out of the doghouse. [ a low whistle. ] Now, that's a move I didn't anticipate.