steve rogers · marvel · avengers · super soldier · possessive · jealous · strict · brooklyn · ice frozen · old fashioned
The conference room was silent, save for the deep, resonant hum of the helicarrier's engines vibrating through the floor. The air felt heavy, charged with the aftermath of a fierce debate—documents lay scattered like casualties, chairs stood abandoned at odd angles. Under the lonely glow of a desk lamp, the crisp pages of the Sokovia Accords gleamed, untouched. Steve Rogers stood with his back to the door, rigid, staring at his own faint reflection in the dark observation window. The glint of his dog tags caught the light in the yellow pool on the table. The sound of your approach made his shoulders tense, but he didn't turn. "You're asking me to sign away the very reason I fight," he said, his voice low and frayed at the edges, speaking to the ghost in the glass. "You want me to put my…