#i have broad shoulders but at the end of the day i am still 5'2

[fatlarde]

i dont mind being short until im reminded that none of my clothes fit right and i look just Slightly a mess

[trustsalvatorewriting]

hold tight || tamaki suoh - chapter one

Summary: In which a politician’s daughter begrudgingly transfers to Ouran Academy

Word Count: 2,036

Preface | Chapter One

-

chapter one : out of element ❝ i feel very small. i don't understand. i have so much courage, fire, energy, for so many things. and yet, i get so hurt, so wounded by small things ❞

___________

"Perhaps I should have warned you about the uniform."

A light chuckle left Kyoya's lips when he was met with Kana's frightening glare. Her usually slender figure was covered up by a pastel yellow school uniform. She grunted and pulled at the puffy sleeves, muttering, "I have been dressed by Versace himself, and you stuff me into this monstrous uniform. I look like a pastry."

Kyoya rolled his eyes, ignoring the death glare she had sent his way. There were times when it felt as though being in her presence was no different from being in the presence of a very angry goddess. The goddess of death, perhaps. Her porcelain skin and obsidian features would surely fit the bill. But then, his nickname at Ouran Academy had been "The Shadow King." Surely commoners such as Haruhi Fujioka viewed him the same way he saw Kana Kadenokiji.

"You have far more important matters to attend to than your outfits. The drive to the school will be about thirty minutes. I can walk to you to class when we arrive."

The girl only hummed, turning her head and pressing her head against the window. She and Ootori were only a few days apart, birthday wise, so it was no surprise they'd ended up in the same class. She knew she would have an adjustment period. There was a vast difference between having to see Ootori every week and seeing him everyday.

It would be a welcome distraction, though. It would be refreshing to see a life outside the walls of her bedroom. She swallowed the lump in her throat, fingers gripping her yellow skirt. "Are there any updates?"

Kana watched a look of remorse cross Ootori's face, and she wished she'd never asked. "None."

"I asked you for this one thing--"

"Your brother is a fifteen-year-old boy who ran into the woods in broad daylight. He couldn't have gotten far, so please, let my family handle this," He responded.

She motioned for the driver to shut the partition, turning her attention back to her dress. It had taken a full week for her to completely transfer her files to Ouran. When she'd arrived, she was presented with a tour of the pink European-esque architecture. It was beautiful, to say the least. She was sure the only thing she would have to worry about was getting lost.

Her eyes landed on the diamond encrusted ring around her finger, and she remembered the club activities Ootori involved himself in. He'd mentioned it briefly, as though he were asking her rather than telling her. Truthfully, she couldn't have cared less; but she supposed she would have to, now that she was attending the same school as he. She wondered if he'd ever spoken of it to his colleagues.

"You don't have to take it off if you aren't comfortable with it," Kyoya explained, as though reading her mind. "No one at the school is aware of our engagement except those who put effort into researching each of the students. It's public record, so there isn't any point in hiding it. And most of my work at the Host Club consists of finances and advertising, so there's no problem there."

"I thought you were supposed to be the Cool Type."

"You don't think so?"

A sigh left her mouth. "I am going to be your wife, Ootori. I think whatever you want me to think."

Equals. It had been an unspoken agreement between the two that they would treat each other as equals, and nothing less. They were each brilliant in their own way, they would each have their own roles to fulfill within the business. Still, that never stopped the uneasy feeling that rested in Kana's stomach. The feeling that one day, Ootori would surpass her in her own game, and she would become Ootori Kana: wife of the CEO of Kadenokiji Industries. Nothing less, and unfortunately, nothing more.

Thirty minutes passed in complete silence. Ootori was writing in his little black book, and Kana spent the remainder of the travel staring out the window. Every so often, she would catch a glimpse of Jun, hiding in plain sight; but she would blink, and the image would be distorted. It would be a boy with skin that too tall to have been Jun, or perhaps too skinny, or perhaps too happy.

Kyoya had requested that they be dropped off at the back of the school, stating that it was a much easier route to the classroom they would need to get to. Kana glanced down at her schedule and sighed. These classes couldn't have been much harder than the ones she'd been given at home.

"These classes are going to be much harder than the ones you've been given at home," Kyoya stated, opening the door on his side of the car and reaching for his bag. "You're going to need some time to adjust, but I assure you, you'll be alright."

She narrowed her eyes at the Shadow King. He hadn't mentioned anything about rigorous schoolwork -- come to think of it, he hadn't mentioned anything about schoolwork. Most of his arguments consisted of Japanese education and distractions. Not five minutes and she already found herself missing her Parisian tutor, Emilie. She'd had an odd name and her Japanese hadn't been perfect, but she might have preferred the familiarity to whatever nonsense awaited her.

Emilie had taught her English, French, and Latin. She'd been the kindest of Kana's three tutors, and even when she'd been harsh, it had been hard to stay angry at her. The girl was of Indian descent and had stood at 5'2" with sweet brown eyes and a warm smile. Snapping at her had made Kana felt as though she'd kicked a small kitten.

Jinwoo had taught her maths and sciences -- and by default, Korean, as he refused to speak in Japanese. This had been something Kana forced herself to becoming accustomed to, assuming that he hadn't known how to speak Japanese or English. She learned three years later that the old man was fluent in Japanese, English, Mandarin, and Swiss.

Rosita had been her music teacher -- or musical warlord. She'd used extreme methods in her efforts to teach Kana the violin. The lessons stopped when she turned fifteen and her father noticed light bruising on her left hand. They never spoke of it.

If the classes at Ouran Academy were more extreme than the ones she'd taken at home, she swore to herself she would call her driver to bring her home within the first hour.

Kyoya had gone out of his way to lead Kana to her classroom, speaking to her despite the cold aura she seemed to radiate. He spoke of the founders of Ouran Academy, the subjects, he'd even gone out of his way to mention the Host Club. He was well aware she had no interest in learning any of this, but he would take comfort in knowing she was well-informed.

"The teacher was previously a professor in Tokyo. I can give you a copy of his file so you're aware of his credentials."

"No, thank you." Kana stopped at the door of the classroom and took a breath. As she stepped into the busy classroom, it occurred to her why her father had invested so much money into home-schooling her and her brother. The teenagers in front of her were no better than heathens.

She wondered how many of them would know who she was. Whether or not they would approach her, and she rehearsed the cutting lines she would respond with in her head. Kana made her way through the classroom, taking a seat three rows from the back -- one seat away from Ootori. Her eyes shifted to the black-haired boy, who stood at the doorway speaking to an eccentric blond male. The corner of her lip switch as she watched Ootori deadpan at the boy's eccentric movements.

'That must be Suoh, then,' She thought to herself. Ootori would mention him every now and then -- mostly to vent about what an idiot he was. Still, Ootori seemed to treasure their friendship, and she wondered if he was as interesting as Ootori had described him. 'The Host Club's king,' she recalled.

The group of students fell into silence as the professor entered, and everyone scattered to their seats. Suoh took the seat behind Kana, and it occurred to her that she should have checked the surrounding seats before choosing.

Despite Ootori's warnings, the professor was rather liberal in his teachings. He was kind, extending a hand to Kana as he asked her to introduce herself. When she respectfully declined, she felt a tap on her shoulder. When she turned, she was met with Suoh's strange violet irises.

"Hello, Princess. My name is Tamaki Suoh. It's a pleasure to have you here." He took a hold of Kana's hand, placing a kiss to her knuckles. "I assume you've heard of me?"

"Tamaki, please take your hands off Miss Kadenokiji," Ootori sighed, already exasperated at his antics.

Kana glanced at him, amused that he hadn't been able to last ten minutes at Ouran Academy without breaking his façade. He'd always been so composed during their meetings. Was it Suoh that was able to bring it out of him? If so, how far would she be able to push him?

"It's nice to meet you," Kana replied to Suoh, slipping her hand out of his grasp. When the smile fell from his face, she added, "Ootori has mentioned you quite a bit."

Ootori glared at her through his glasses, and Suoh threw himself at him, yelling praises about how much he loved him and how he always knew they were meant to be friends. Mischief danced in Kana's dark eyes as she turned her attention back to the professor. She had always known how to play her cards correctly. It was no wonder why her father had chosen her to be his heir.

"Mommy dear, I always knew you cared for me! Why, it's no wonder, after all. My blond hair and light features compliment yours, perfectly! You are the moon to my sun. I am the stars in your sky. We are perfect for each other!"

Kyoya cleared his throat. "Tamaki, shouldn't you be focusing on making Miss Kadenokiji more comfortable? It is her first day at Ouran Academy."

"Ah, yes. So, tell me!" The extravagant French boy turned his attention to the girl, leaning so far over his desk that, if the laws of physics had applied, he would have fallen. "Why did such a beautiful girl like yourself transfer to Ouran Academy?"

"Because I wanted to," Kana responded simply, doing her best to focus on the lesson.

"You know, I've heard about you and your family."

Kana stiffened, her grasp tightening on the fountain pen between her fingers. Surely he wouldn't bring up her brother's disappearance in such a public place. Information such as that could be used for blackmail. There was no use if he was going to announce it in the middle of a classroom, and why wasn't the professor interfering? Surely this has to be against school policy. No one else is talking. Was this a daily issue? Had they gotten so used to it that they didn't bother cutting him off?

"All of you are just so beautiful. Tell me, do you get your beauty from your mother or your father?" Suoh flirted, while Ootori simply copied down his notes. "I'm sorry, I can't help but ask. I've never seen a beauty quite like yours, Princess Kana."

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, ignoring the ink puddles that were now staining her paper. Perhaps attending a school in which everyone knew who she was, wasn't her best distraction after all.

[anemonenemerosa]

The Spare - Chapter 11

And the story continues. This one is much less angsty. As always, a big thank you to @lumosinlove

Chapter 11

Regulus was woken by a heavy thud and someone swearing loudly. He was completely disoriented, his brain sluggish and not quite connecting what happened last night and how he ended up ...here. N’importe quoi… Whatever…

Blinking blearily, he spotted someone hopping on one leg, clutching their other foot in their hands, still generously swearing. Erm... He snorted at a remarkably colourful curse and the head of the girl, so it seemed, snapped up.

She looked him up and down through dark-rimmed glasses and the floppy top of her ashy-brown pixie-cut, presently sporting a rather impressive bed head, while gnawing her bottom-lip like Ben sometimes did.

"Sorry." But her barely concealed grin belied the soft mumbling. She wasn't so sorry.

He slowly began to comprehend what was amusing her. Regulus was sprawled on the couch, his feet tangling off one end, drool sticking to his cheek, half-entangled in the chicken-blanket and clad in a hideous shirt with cow pattern that barely covered his midriff. Short, he was the epitome of sophistication, grace and elegance. Ouais, enfin… c’est naze. Yeah, well... that sucks.

          He could feel himself turning beet red and sat up, violently scrubbing his cheek.

"Good morning, you want Tea?" she asks. Regulus nodded without listening to what he just agreed to. Maybe I won an Alpaca... Okay... I'm not awake yet. That is not an awake-Regulus thought.

While she turns to... get whatever he agreed to, he stood up and stretched in an attempt to wake up properly, feeling like he had barely slept at all. A glimpse on his phone confirmed his feeling: Half past five in the morning. He had about two and a half hours of sleep. He allowed himself his internal eyeroll, stretched again and winced, rubbing his stiff neck.

Then he took a look at the girl coming back from the kitchen with two steaming cups in her hands, a bottle of milk wedged between her upper arm and her ribcage and a paper bag of sugar pressed with her chin to her chest.

Regardless of the rather odd way of transporting stuff he notes that she is, no other way to say it, minuscule. Her shirt was reaching over her wide hips below mid-thigh and was most likely even smaller than the one he... clearly pulled off.

The girl -Josephine, he assumed- probably was around 5'2'' as she just reached the height of Regulus' shoulder, making him around a foot taller. How does she get to, like, half of the stuff in this room?

After briefly considering the height of Ben and Mateo, he wondered whether the door to the flat was a portal to the shire and he was now surrounded by friendly hobbits. Definitely mad. He snorted again. Since when did he even do this?

Jo dropped her cargo on the living room table without spilling anything, plopped down the couch and busied herself with the tea. When he settled down beside her, a cup was pressed into his hand while she poured milk into her own, gesturing for him to help himself. Concerning tea, Regulus had always been a purist. A bit of Lemon was acceptable in Earl Grey and that's about it. He eyed her milky-tea. Wasn't she british? Païenne. Heathen.

"I'm Jo. I sort of live here. Had an OK night?" she asked, not facing him.

"No" Regulus sore neck began to give him a tension headache and rubbing at it did not help at all.

At first, she just huffed at his deadpan answer but then looked up at him and he got a first look of her face. She was as pale as her brother, her face slim with a gentle jawline and high but not overexaggerated cheekbones. Her eyes were framed with very dark lashes, a dark blue borderlining green with hazel flecks around her Pupils similar to her brothers but also very different, open and sparkling, the bridge of her slightly broad button nose was sprinkled with pale freckles and the tip sported a silver septum-ring. Her full lips were currently being gnawed at, paired with a raised eyebrow. This soft and expressive face was about as different from his mother’s as possible and Regulus' stomach gave an undignified churn.

"Quoi?", he was suddenly very irritated, "I had about two hours of sleep and my brain is pounding through my skull! I have no nerve for idle chatter and polite exchange of pleasantries."

Jo gave him a second glance, put both their mugs at the table and sat down on top of the back of the couch, directly behind Regulus.

"What-" he started again but was curtly interrupted "Oh bloody hell, belt up!" What?!

"I am not nearly as socially gifted as the other two himbos. I do not beat around the bush, I do not small talk, I was a nice and considerate host, offered tea and stuff although I prefer my mornings calm and solitary. I do not have the patience to deal with snappy dudes on my couch so hold still. I'm gonna fix your neck and we try again." So, bullying people into feeling better runs in the family...

  That said, she pulled his shoulders back so that he was sitting straight and began carefully kneading his neck up to his hairline. I hurt. A lot, but somehow her hands tingled on his skin in a completely irrational matter. Then, Jos hands reached up to the base of his skull and her thumbs very precisely and firmly pressed on two rather sensitive spots he didn’t even know were there. Regulus gasped and tensed up.

"I know, but it gets better soon. Ben used to twist his neck all the time. I know what I’m doing." her voice was much softer now. Then, she pressed into similar tender spots on his shoulders and shuffled back to sit beside him.

"Better?"

He took a few breaths to realise that, indeed, the pain was almost gone. "Yes."

"Nice. Shall we have a civil and less snappy conversation now?" It came over rather rude but there was a smirk in her eyes and a corner of a lip was twitching slightly.

"Why are you even awake now?" Regulus mumbled after sitting in silence for a while.

"Just am. I've always been an early riser and as resident introvert I do genuinely enjoy mornings on my own to prepare for a day full of dealing with people and have other exasperating encounters."

Regulus turned his head towards her. "Are you always this plain about things?"

By now, Jo had tucked herself in the corner of the couch, sitting cross-legged and playing with a hole in her sock.

"As I told you, I do not beat around the bush. I mean, I am capable of cordiality but interaction with people is bound to lead to miscommunication. Why make it worse by hidden meanings, hinting on things or even expecting that the other one is a mind reader... People are hard work as is; Many of them are daft, stubborn or worse, both. I prefer to keep strangers at an arm’s length."

Instead of a witty remark, Regulus gave an embarrassing little chuckle. How very eloquent... He liked her view on society. "You are a little overdramatic now, don’t you think? Besides, you just gave me a neck massage. That was closer than an arm’s length."

"No and no." He risked a side glace at her, caught a short smirk and smiled into his tea, realised what he was doing and gave an internal admonishing glare at his composure.

"I suspect you know the difference between literally and metaphorically, too. So m'just gonna continue in the belief you're shitting with me. Here you go with the literal answer: The massage was self-preservation. You're an unbearable little git when in pain."

Regulus raised his eyebrows in a mock expression and leaned in the opposite corner of the couch "I see. Am I now of decent demeanour, your grace?"

"Surprisingly tolerable." She returned the with a smirk.

They bantered and talked about random stuff (A great amount of time was put into determining the best Disc World Series – Truce between Ankh-Morpok City Watch and Death) for what felt like hours and seconds at the same time. Regulus profession was not even part of the conversation and he didn't think he had ever talked for so long with someone without getting to hockey and the mess that came with the name Black, eventually.

He felt strangely at ease here, catching himself paying less attention to his meticulously established guard. He barely scanned Jos words for hidden implications or concealed prying, like he was so used to do. It became so much second nature to him that, until now, he didn't even realise how exhausting this habit was.

What the hell? Reg asked himself not for the first time since meeting Ben in the rink-showers and he was starting to freak out a little.

After an uncommonly long silence he noticed Jo looking at him again while gnawing her lips. It seemed to be a giveaway that she's about to ask something uncomfortable.

"Reg?" The use of the pet-name felt like a slap. He should really tell them to stop this.

"How do you know my name?" Apparently, Regulus was still not used to being known.

"The note this morning only read: The guy on the Couch is Reg, be nice." Jo really tried to sound light-hearted.

Regulus was starting to get suspicious again. "Ah. What?"

"I do not want you to feel like shit so tell me if you do not want to answer: Why are you here?" Jo shiften unconftably in her corner.

"I do not want to answer." Regulus prepared himself for the inevitable interrogation.

"OK." Here we go… Wait.

"That’s it?"

"Sure, why would I pry?" The girl furrowed her brows while looking at him over the brim of her cup.

He felt strangely content until now, that he remembered why he was here and asked himself what these people actually wanted from him. The knot in his stomach was back with full force as he felt the waves of guilt washing over him.

He ruined his brother live and was sitting on a couch, drinking tea and joking around with strangers? He got up abruptly, plucked is clothes from the heating unit and changed quickly, not giving a flying fuck about giving the girl a prime view of his naked arse. Jo stood between him and the couch, her brows still furrowed.

"I need to go." With that he was out of the door and only just heard her calling

"Hey idiot, you can come back this evening if you want to" before the doors of the elevator closed. Smooth, Black. Real smooth.

[escapingreality1992]

Secret Pen Pals ch. 2

Keira's POV

My alarm went off at 8 a.m. sharp and I groaned as I scrunched up my face annoyed at the early hour. My hair fell in my face as I pushed myself up from lying on my stomach. Unfortunately, I couldn't go back to sleep because a client of mine was coming by to drop off her two golden retrievers to be watched for a week; She'd be here at 10 a.m. and I'd go over a couple things before having to leave the pups in the apartment two hours later in order to meet my friends for lunch.

An outward groan left my throat again, dreading the conversation I would have with them. If they had seen the advertisement for the pen pal event, I was sure that they'd have their own opinions about it. If they hadn't...well either way I planned to keep it a secret from them. I considered myself to be a romantic; to them, I'd be nothing more than a hopeless romantic, the idea that two people might fall in love through letters ridiculous in their minds.

My job was already a joke to them, a disappointing career to anyone close to me. The thing is I enjoyed what I did for a living. Dogs brought me joy to my life and today I planned on taking them for a swim at a local pool strictly for dogs. I released a content sigh thinking about it. In addition, I also wanted to stop by one of those unique specialty stores which sold anything from antiques to dolls, but more importantly the one I wanted to shop in had those instant Polaroid cameras. The reason behind this being that I had wrote Steve about sending him a picture of the coziness of my room, capturing the many blankets thrown across my bed.

Making a mental note to clean my room, I strode to the bathroom to take a shower in preparation for the day ahead of me. I let the hot water pour over my body, taking my time to cleanse it of the sweat that clung to it from the heat of the apartment. Fall came quick this year, meaning cooler nights and I had yet to make a thicker blanket to envelop me in warmth. Once finished with my usual routing in the shower, I stepped out into the coldness of the bathroom; I constantly let the fan run to avoid paint peeling off the walls from the steam that encased the entire room from the hot water. I wrapped a fluffy, light blue towel around my body - my arms and lower legs still exposed to the cool air - and ventured to the warm air of my bedroom.

Making my way to my closet, I chose an outfit consisting of a violet t-shirt, blue jeans and sneakers laying it across my unmade bed before grabbing undergarments from my dresser. Slipping those on, I dried my hair, leaving it slightly wet and pulling on the t-shirt and jeans before continuing the drying process. Since I had longer hair, it took a little while for it to get fully dry; I pulled it up in my usual ponytail and grabbed my current read and phone to sit on the couch while I waited for my client to arrive. At 10, a knock sounded at the my door, prompting me to put my bookmark in my book and set it aside to greet Andrea and Mark Peterson, the owners of the two golden retrievers; Jamie age 4 and Sherlock age 6.

"Good morning Keira. Thanks again for watching them. This trip to Paris is very important," Andrea greeted me. They were business partners who were trying to get word out for the wedding cakes they crafted from scratch. Andrea was a petite, 5'2" woman with honey blonde hair and brown eyes, while her husband stood at 6'3" with broad shoulders, dark hair and hazel eyes. They had no children apart from the dogs whom they sort of treated as such. They were humble and our first meeting involved picking out a cake for a friend's - well former friend's - wedding five years ago. They were a sweet couple and had seen my ad three weeks before that wedding, never needing to use my services until a month after; they went to travel to England for supplies for more extravagant decorations for their many delicious cakes. Now in the present, they became a regular client as their business continued to propel forward. They paid well, but it wasn't about the money for me. I loved taking care of each and every dog I watched.

"No problem. I enjoy having Jamie and Sherlock around. You said you were picking them up Saturday?" I told them, taking the leashes and walking the dogs to the couch, setting them loose once my apartment door was shut by Mark, who set down their dog bags.

"Can we pick up Sunday actually? Sunday night if possible. We'll be getting in pretty late Saturday and I have a feeling the jet lag is going to be horrendous," Andrea replied, pulling out her checkbook.

"Sunday is perfectly fine. Are you okay if I take them swimming? I'd be taking them to an indoor dog pool a few blocks from here,"

"Yes that sounds like a wonderful idea. I imagine they might enjoy that very much. If they stay until Sunday, how much more will that be?" Mark stated.

"Only 30 dollars more. Anything else I need to know about this week? Any questions about anything else?" I responded.

"30 dollars? Really? You know what, I'll give you a little more. I think 4000 should suffice," Andrea commented.

"Oh, but I only charge 2000 in most cases," I stated.

"We don't mind. You take care of them so often and so excellent that you deserve a big tip," Mark commented, smiling politely. I returned the smile and rubbed the head of Sherlock who had padded over to me and nudged the fingers of my right hand. Andrea ripped out the check and handed it to me, both owners waving goodbye to both goldens. My apartment door closed again and I turned to the pups.

"What do you say? Want to go for a walk before lunchtime?" I asked them. At this both dogs circled me jumping up to place their paws against my body.

"Okay, okay. First you two have to sit and wait so I can hook up your leashes," I told them, slipping on my sneakers. I grabbed a few poop bags, leashes and keys in the other hand before going outside for a walk. While walking, I couldn't help but wonder what Steve was up to at this very moment.

Steve's POV

Another 5 a.m. run, another training session, and another debriefing on the latest threat. That's how my day began. Not at all exciting, especially with debriefing, which wasn't even about a threat at all. It ended up being a report about the last enemy we defeated, a couple of paranormal entities, which we had to enlist Stephen Strange's help with. What followed the report was Tony discussing plans for an upcoming benefit we had to attend. As he droned on, I found myself aimlessly drawing on a piece of printer paper to stave off my boredom. Well, at least, I'll have something to send to Keira, I thought, focusing on the curvature of a ball of yarn I drew. Funny, I'm letting details of her first letter influence my sketches. Weird how it happened, I thought, a small smile creeping on my lips.

"What do you think Cap?" Tony's voice cut into my concentration.

"About what?" I answered, not even looking up, too involved in sketching out a dog's paw.

"I thought about showing up in my birthday suit and dancing all night," he stated. My pencil froze and I glanced up to see Tony grinning in pure amusement.

"I'm only joking. The theme, Steve, would be dark tones. Not necessarily black tie but shades of gray, black, maybe even white," he stated.

"No white. If you served red wine or colorful cocktails, there would be obvious stains should you spill anything on yourself. Shades of gray? Like the movies? Isn't that a little inappropriate?" I told him, my hand itching to get back to my drawing. Snorts of laughter went around the room as my friends glanced at each other.

"No, not the movies. The benefit is supposed to be formal. I didn't want it to be black tie again," Tony answered.

"Oh, alright. What is this for? Remind me,"

"Saving the world from total destruction and as it turns out paranormal beings. We're giving back to the community as well," Tony explained.

"Of course with a huge donation on your end," Natasha commented.

"We work hard and Stark Industries is doing pretty well in the technology department,"

"Maybe Strange is right. I don't see how that ego fits in..."

I barely registered Nat's entire quip at Tony, resuming my drawing as they bickered back and forth.

"You know Nat and Wanda could be having sex on the table right in front of us and you wouldn't notice. What's got you all distracted?" Bucky asked me, getting my attention by waving a hand in front of my face.

"Nothing. I hate these kind of debriefings. They're important but I find them dull and boring. At least the ones with missions have more excitement," I responded, flipping the pencil to use the eraser, correcting a mistake I made with the dog's body.

"Nothing? Seems like it's something since you've become super quiet. You must be really bored if you're drawing. What is it this time? More monkeys?" Bucky stated. He leaned over to see and I immediately moved another sheet over it to block his view.

"No. It's not finished. I'd rather not let anyone see it right now," I said, causing him to furrow his brows.

"What is it for anyway?"

"No one...I mean, it's not for anything. You know how I get when I'm bored. I doodle things instead of letting sleep take over. Especially in this meeting," I stated, a slight panic coming over me at revealing my pen pal. It's not like I didn't want to tell him but I didn't want anyone to poke fun at the idea. My friends wouldn't judge but I couldn't have them deter me from the exchange anyway. Plus, I wanted someone to talk to - write in this case - about anything I felt like. I wanted to have someone to interact with that wasn't involved in my world. Although I still had a recurring though of Keira already knowing who I am, though re-reading the letter it seemed like she didn't. If she did...maybe she hadn't revealed that fact yet, afraid to drive me away when she could have me to herself. Shaking my head, I tried to shove it away from my mind. Relax, Steve. Have some faith in this girl, I thought. Turning my attention to my best friend, I managed a small smile.

"Honestly it's a silly drawing. I wouldn't worry about it. I don't mean to be secretive about the beginnings of the sketch but I want to make sure it's perfect before I show anyone," I told him.

"That's understandable. That being said, are you sure nothing else is on your mind?"

"I'm sure, Buck. Thanks for your concern," I stated.

"That's a wrap everyone. On your way out of the room, grab a packet so you can review details of the benefit later this week," Tony informed us.

"This week? I thought it was next week," I commented, inwardly groaning.

"If you had been paying attention, you would have already known it's happening this week. Why the long face Cap? Afraid you can't get a date?" Tony mocked me. I frowned, standing up to approach the table where our packets lay.

"I'm not going with anyone. I forgot to purchase a suit to match the colors of this benefit. If you'll excuse me, I must go out and do so. Especially if I'm to be presentable for your taste," I remarked, almost hissing the last part. Tony and I had a different relationship, agreeing on some things, disagreeing on most. Today happened to be a day where the littlest of things could set me off. I could admit stress definitely was a factor, the only thing calming my mood being my pen pal and the eagerness of sending another letter growing in my heart. I picked up the packet, walking out in as much a calm manner as possible. I retreated to my room to place the packet on my desk before venturing out to a department store in order to pick up a suit for the benefit a few days later. After trying on a few suits and deciding on a charcoal gray suit with a tie that matched it, I chose to stop by a small jewelry store and purchased a birthday gift worthy for Keira. Unaware to me, Keira happened to be in the same area eating lunch; our paths wouldn't cross with each other on this day. I returned home to finish the small drawing of a dog playing with a ball of yarn and began constructing another letter for her.

Keira's POV

The golden retrievers and I returned from the walk tired and hungry; I also had sweat that accumulated on various parts of my body, deciding that I needed to take a final shower before meeting my friends. I set out bowls of dog food for Jamie and Sherlock before taking said shower, quickly going through the routine and drying off. I changed into a dark green, long sleeve blouse and black trousers remembering the restaurant we were going to was really nice. Not an overly expensive one you could see the elite dining in but one in which the prices were in a medium range. Pulling on a pair of heels that matched my blouse, I made sure my furry companions had water, giving them both a treat before heading out for lunch with my friends. Since the restaurant wasn't too far from my apartment, I decided to walk to it instead of taking a cab, the subway station out of the question being on the opposite side of where I needed to go. As usual, I ended up being 15 minutes early having to wait on the other three women to arrive. Thankfully, I always carried a book everywhere I went; the current read being about magic and wizards, the genre of fantasy drawing me into its fascinating world.

"Why is it whenever we meet up, you manage to have your nose in a book?" a voice interrupted my reading. The next to arrive was Charlotte Mathers with her red pixie cut, long legs, and green eyes. She enjoyed her job, which happened to be a general manager at a high end retail store. She got paid well, enough to live near Central Park in an amazing, huge, studio apartment, plus she had been born into a family that had a little more money than the average middle class. I smiled, trying not to be annoyed with her comment.

"Well Charlotte, I enjoy reading instead of having my face rooted to my phone," I answered her. Like she even heard me, her face locked onto her phone...this being a normal habit of hers.

"She never escapes from her fantastical world. How have you been Keira?" another voice stated. Oh good. Of course, Lena would be the next to get here, I thought. A woman with long blonde hair, a petite figure that mirrored mine and blue eyes was an accurate description of Lena Morrow. Lena had a job as a receptionist to a law firm. It was rare that she could out to lunch and we enjoyed her company whenever possible. She stayed busy exactly like Jana Elliot, who was the last to arrive. Jana was a nurse which is her schedule almost never matched Charlotte's and mine.

"I'm good Lena. I've got two dogs to watch this week which is pretty cool," I responded to the question, catching Jana's eyes as she walked in.

"Didn't you have one last week? What is it with you and babysitting dogs? It can't pay all that well," Jana greeted us.

"It pays pretty well actually. I keep getting requests from a lot of people who don't mind paying a lot. Plus, I charge 2000 for an entire week. Though for a few days it's only about 1500," I explained.

"Yeah, but you must not have enough to live anywhere nice," Lena commented.

"I live in Brooklyn. It's nice enough and save most of what I earn. Not to mention people give me tips after I watch their dogs. I even charge a little extra for training them if they need it. Sometimes I have the same dog or dogs for two weeks which gets me a lot of money," I stated.

"You're still earning money from doing book reviews right? What do they pay? 1300 per review?" Charlotte asked, looking up from her phone for the first time since she got here.

"Yes. It's more like 1500. Enough talk about my income. I'm hungry," I stated, feeling all the judgment from my friends. I loved them but there time I wondered why they bothered hanging out with me. Their comments seemed to get worse every time we met up, but I didn't want to seem like a hermit staying in my apartment, so I put up with it. They didn't bother me too much; occasionally someone would say something that rooted in me and stung a little but I never showed it until I got back to my apartment. We were seated and ordered spinach artichoke dip as an appetizer until we figured out what to have as a main course. Looking over the menu, I decided to go with a tuna poke, Lena, went with steak, Charlotte chose a salad and Jana went with a club sandwich.

"Did anyone see that advert in the bookstore downtown? An event for pen pals. Sounds ridiculous if you ask me," Charlotte said. My blood froze as Jana and Lena both nodded.

"Who would e-mail a complete stranger? What do they expect will happen? Someone falls in love with another person. Not likely," Lena replied.

"I heard it's supposed to be handwritten letters instead of e-mailing one another," I commented, nervously wringing my hands under the table.

"Oh good. Nothing like going back in time. I wonder if they had anyone sign up. Or maybe if they had any of the Avengers sign up," Lena continued, a scowl on her face.

"Maybe some might say it sounds kind of romantic. Having a connection with someone through letters of course. It doesn't have to be romance though. Some people could meet new friends," I stated. The three of them turned to glance at me; if I hadn't been judged before, then their expression certainly had judgment clearly etched out on their features.

"Did you sign up? You've always been a hopeless romantic. Sweetie, you should go out and meet someone real, not write to someone you can't even see," Jana suggested.

"No. I missed the deadline. As for meeting someone while I go out, it hasn't really worked for me," I snapped. Their eyebrows raised at the anger in my tone and decided to drop the subject. It was a quiet lunch, not much to say; I suppose my annoyance at them prevented anyone from speaking and for the first time I was happy to leave one of our outings.

Returning to my apartment, the retrievers greeted me by letting me scratch their heads, following me around while I prepared for our appointment at the dog pool. I changed into a black one piece, throwing on athletic shorts and a tank top with flip flops and leashed the dogs before exiting my home. This time, I loaded them in car and drove to midtown Manhattan, parking in the garage of the pool building, taking the elevator down to the pool. We would be the only ones there and I could eliminate the lunch from my mind as I swam around with Jamie and Sherlock. I had unleashed them and let them jump in while I pulled off my shorts and tank top, joining them immediately. We stayed there for two hours, swimming and playing, the tension I had melting away.

Packing up at the end of our session, I remembered to stop by the specialty shop that sold the Polaroid cameras for the purpose of keeping an old-fashioned theme to my letters. The shop in particular, accurately named Unique Peculiarities, allowed pets so I toted Jamie and Sherlock inside, browsing the various colors of the cameras, selecting a royal blue one and grabbing some film to prepare for my idea. I returned home and let the pups do their business before letting them loose in my apartment. I set to cleaning up and arranged my blankets in such a way to capture the coziness. I decided at the last minute to snap a picture of my bookshelves and added one of favorite books, Pride and Prejudice, for another picture. Once I got the pictures out the way, I sat down to construct another letter to Steve.

Four Days Later

Steve's POV

I spent most of the week preparing for the benefit and when it came, I still felt like something was missing, or rather someone. Maybe I was lonely and desired a companionship. Even now as I looked around at my friends, I wanted someone to hold, to kiss, to love. Most of my friends had someone; Natasha had Wanda - a surprise to all of us but we supported it - Tony had Pepper, Thor had Jane. The rest of us remained single but I couldn't help but to dream of having someone to care for. I didn't know if Keira would be the one for me. I hadn't even met the woman but still imagined what it'd be like with her.

"Can I get a beer please?" I asked the bartender, sitting down on the stools contemplating my decisions in life. I spent most days avenging the world and missed out on several opportunities to be fixed up on a date. Natasha had tried many times a few years ago but I rejected them all, set on working on missions. There was a brief relationship with Sharon Carter but it fell through pretty quickly and now I regretted not taking more chances with dating someone.

"Everything all right? You seem a bit down," Natasha's voice interrupted my thoughts as I sipped on my beer. I turned, managing a small grin.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just thinking about some things,"

"Relationships you mean. What? I know you too well. Besides, I've been watching you tonight. You look at the couples and there's a hint of sadness in your eyes. Why don't you ask someone out?" she commented.

"I don't know. Sure, I'd like to date but the people I'm around are caught up in this world, avenging it and I don't want someone in the same line of work. I'd like to come home to some who can take my mind off this job. Other people see me as Captain America, not Steve Rogers. It's hard most days, seeing happiness of those around me when I can't provide it for myself,"

"Who knows? Maybe it'll happen to you one day. Don't give up hope,"

"Thanks Natasha," I told her. As the night died down, I wandered outside to get a breath of fresh air, hands in my pockets, the cool breeze of Autumn ruffling my hair. I reached the end of the drive and stopped by the mailbox. Mailbox. We haven't checked it in the last few days, I thought. Keira's name flashed across my mind as I opened the metal box and pulled out a stack of mail. I rifled through it on the way back to the compound. I was back inside the building when I saw it, the letter addressed to me. I set down the other mail on the coffee table and disappeared into my room, my fingers quickly opening the thick packaging of the envelope. I sat down on my bed, unfolding the letter, three Polaroid pictures facing me. One featured a bed with a multitude of colorful knitted blankets, the thickness of the material making me want to bury my body among them. The second picture had a view of three large bookshelves filled to the brim with all sorts of books ranging from fiction to nonfiction to young adult books. At the bottom of the Polaroid she had written - in Sharpie - 'Can you tell I'm a book collector?' followed by a winking face next to the question. A smile crept onto my lips as I picked up the final picture featuring Pride and Prejudice. The the end she had written 'My all time favorite.' Putting the pictures to the side, I began reading, kicking off my shoes and lying back on the sheets.

Steve,

As promised, I've sent you a picture of my cozy blankets. Don't they make you want to climb under them? They're ones for fall but there are more that I'm creating for winter. Definitely needing to stay warm, especially in this city. As a bonus, I've sent you a picture of bookshelves and one of my all time favorite book. I know, these are Polaroids but I thought it'd be kind of interesting to keep an nostalgic theme going here.

Pride and Prejudice is one story I've falling in love with ever since the eighth grade. I love the dynamic between Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy and the love that happened to always be there. I read it every Christmas curled up in bed or on the couch, a cup of hot chocolate, or tea, in my hand. The blankets surrounding me of course. You'd think after a few years of living here, I'd be used to the cold, but I'm still a southern girl at heart and desire warmth.

In my last letter, I realized I forgot to tell you I'm originally from North Carolina. Greensboro to be exact. When I used to live there, we had crazy weather too, one day it'd be hot as blazes, the next cool and comfortable. During the winter, we'd freeze, not used to it. My parents still live there of course, but we don't get to visit each other much. I miss them and I'll be visiting the some time next month and for Christmas, so if you get a letter from North Carolina, that'll be why.

Currently, I'm watching two golden retrievers named Jamie and Sherlock. We went swimming earlier and as I'm write this, my hair is still a tangled, wet mess. I hope wherever you are, you're having a good day. I was until I met up with a couple friends of mine. I think I've mentioned I'm a total romantic. If not, then now you know.

Well that makes two of us, I thought. She already had me wanting to cozy up in that bed as well since I already viewed the picture. The only difference being I wanted to be under there with her. It's only the second letter. Am I starting to crush on her already?  Another thought popped up in my head as I continued reading.

Anyway, they saw the advertisement for this event and seemed to think it ridiculous. I rather think this is unique, a great opportunity to connect. Maybe all this could be is a friendship but maybe somewhere out there it could give someone to love. Is it silly? Maybe not ideal? Perhaps, but you never know. Things could miraculously happen.

No, it's not silly. I love the way your mind works,  I thought. I sat up to remove my jacket and tie picking up the letter again, settling back on the pillows.

If that wasn't bad enough, they sought out to judge me on my job. They don't think it pays well but you'd be surprised at the amount of people who request me to watch their dogs. Sometimes they also pay to have me train them. Not to mention a side job (which I forgot to mention last time) as a book reviewer. Apparently in this city, it pays well and it's a lot of fun.

The only things that calmed me today was the pool time with the pups and knowing I could come back write to you. I wish that we have met already; I desperately need a hug at the moment. For the time being, I'll just hold the goldens close and pet them. Maybe next week will be better. It'll be my birthday after all. Nothing can go wrong on your birthday.

Sorry for the complaining but I needed to get it off my chest and my mind. Writing and talking is the best way I know how to do just that and since I can't talk to anyone about this, writing to you seems to be my only option. It's the best option, trust me.

Looking forward to your letter,

Keira

I ran my fingers over her name, a longing in my heart starting to grow. I would've wrapped her in a hug so warm she'd never feel sad again. I sighed, getting up and placing the letter and the Polaroids in a box I set aside for this very purpose. I stripped out the rest of the suit, except for my boxers and turned off the lights in my room. I slipped into the warmth of my bed and fell into dreams of one day meeting Keira.

Keira's POV

My week with Jamie and Sherlock wasn't over yet. I spent more time sitting on the couch reading, taking them out on walks or just to their business when they needed it. We went swimming two more days and I collected the mail, letting it pile up, not checking it because I got busy training the pups a few times during the week. Today my phone rang while I sat on the couch, Sherlock in my lap, Jamie on the other end sleeping.

"Hello?" I answered, not checking the ID.

"Keira, it's Andrea. We need to stay another three days in Europe. We've been requested to head to London to check on the shop there. Are you okay to watch Jamie and Sherlock for a little longer?" Mrs. Peterson greeted me.

"Yeah, no problem. I don't have any other dogs coming until next Saturday," I told her her pushing my stack of mail over to get to my calendar. I marked down Jamie and Sherlock until the Wednesday coming up. The pile tipped over, spilling to the floor and I sighed, bending down to pick up the envelopes that fell; my hands paused when I saw the new letter from Steve.

"Great. We'll pay you when we get back. is an extra 3000 okay with you?" she commented.

"Uh huh. Sounds good. Have a safe trip," I said, ending the call and standing up. I hastily threw the other envelopes I picked up back on the kitchen counter, returning to the couch. I ripped open the envelope pulling out a sheet of notebook paper, unfolding it and started reading.

Keira,

I just finished up picking out a suit for a benefit I have to attend later this week. I forgot all about it until one of my friends told me about it during a meeting today. This meeting was dull and boring, not exciting like others. In the other letter you sent, you wanted to know a favorite memory of mine. I don't have many but I always remember the one when my best friend made me ride on a roller coaster at Coney Island which made me throw up. Gross, I know, but it's the one that comes to mind first. That and the engagement of another friend of mine. He had never been happier than in that moment. Another thing about me is something we both have in common. Reading is a favorite thing I love to do. Other than drawing. Speaking of, I sent you a drawing this time. I mentioned I doodle when I'm bored. So, this took place during the meeting.

I stopped briefly to pull out the piece of paper that got stuck in the envelope. I unfolded it and smiled at the pictured of a realistic looking dog pawing around a ball of yarn. He was definitely talented, the details standing out and catching the eye. I looked back to the letter and continued to read.

It's not much but it made me think of you. Your job sounds interesting and I'm pleased you're following your passion. Now, things I like to do for fun besides reading and drawing are going out with my friends to a bar. We tend to have a good time. I like running and going to the movies, even though I'm behind on a lot of them. I love the smell of coffee in the morning and the smell of rain whenever I go out in it. The rain is almost tranquil and I feel I can escape among those tiny droplets. You should see my mood during a thunderstorm. I'm very calm throughout it. I love watching the lightning in the dark with the curtains drawn.

Oh, we'd definitely get along then, I thought, touching my free fingers to my lips.

The description of your blankets makes me want a creation of yours. No pressure though. We're still strangers after all. Your description of yourself, however, makes me want to see that lovely face. You're beautiful, though I haven't seen you yet. If we ever get to the point where we'd want to see each other in person, I know I'd have my breath taken away. That's only my opinion though. I hope this benefit goes well. I'm not going with anyone but sometimes I get this lonely feeling. I want someone to hold and to love but I haven't found the right person yet and the people I'm around are in my line of work. I;d love to come home to someone who doesn't deal with the same things I do. I would love someone who could pull me from it, to distract me from it, if only for a few hours.

I don't mean to sound sad but I feel as though I can tell you anything and not get judged for it or at least not pushed into anything. This a good way to open up indeed. To tell someone about things you wouldn't normally share with even your closest friends. I want to hear more from you. Your favorite movie? Your ideal date? Your ideal day? Maybe your favorite memory? Anything. Everything. I hope the drawing brought you joy today.

Write to you soon,

Steve

My smile spread wider at the words on the paper. A thought popped in my mind that very instant. The thought being that I might start to like him only not in a friendship way. Though the friendship was off to a good start, other feelings began to dance around in my heart. Try not to fall in love with him yet. It's too early for that, I thought to myself. I folded up the letter and the drawing, sliding them into the envelope carefully and set it aside, continuing my book well into the late night, Steve on my mind. I made a mental note to get a frame for the drawing as I got up from the couch, allowing both dogs to join me in my bedroom. I changed into pajamas and slid under the coziness of my sheets, drifting off into dreamland.