there`s something melancholic flickering on the blue fire of his eyes (  nostalgic, longing embers  ), despite the barest hint of a smile her words have sewn into his lips. her own yearning has stripped away a silent barricade and revealed a common standing ground — one common desire: to return to what they had, before heroics consumed their private lives and no longer could they spare time for banter such as this.

steve sighs,  ❛   i know,   ❜  as he brushes his knuckles against hers, in a minute yet affectionate gesture. his smile falters, only for a moment, before relighting its dying flame with a tug at the corners of his mouth.  ❛   i promise we`ll talk like this again soon. okay?    ❜

OF MONSTERS AND MEN  /  ACCEPTING.