#need to be less embellished for a bit yknow
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bonesofapoet · 3 years ago
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Stars in High Tide
[ sam wilson x you ]
author’s note: so i rewatched tfatws then completely rewrote what i was working on the first time i watched this :) anyway, im a bit rusty and a bit terrified i keep writing for new characters so pls be gentle, we’re working through some Angst with this one lmao. pre tfatws, post endgame, grief tw, implied death
word count: 954
It was peaceful, the way sunlight fell over the water.
The rise of the sun was slow and steady in this gentle blue hour, all melancholy and serene. It gave way to the coveted brilliance of golden hour, over time. Deep navy blue melted through shades of indigo, lilac. The air became rosy when the sky became warm honey, oranges reflecting off the cool water. Bright beams were kaleidoscopic off waves ebbing and flowing with the tide.
The sound echoed in your ears, soft and familiar, hid the sound of footfalls coming up behind you, then stopped on your right. He crouched down on the ground, stretched out long legs to lean back on calloused palms. He said nothing.
Sunshine had just begun to illuminate the world, and by extension, your heart. Golden hour intensified until it evened out, faded into the shadow of oblivion.
After a few minutes of silence, your voice found it’s footing, found stable ground to stand on. It was quiet though, held the kind of distance one reserves for memories still a little raw, still tender pinkish and swollen around the edges.
“You know, during those five years – I read a quote that stuck with me for a while. ‘Nature is a haunted house.’” a pause. Leaned back on your hands and felt the warmth of the sun slowly creep over your bare feet, up your legs. Your eyes slid from the calm waters over to Sam, watching you with soft eyes.
“I didn’t really understand, at first. Then the next morning, I came out here to watch the sunrise again and I – well. I felt it, Sam. It was just ghost after ghost, hovering next to me in this sea of people simply gone.” a deep inhale, exhale. “It was just me, and the water, and our memories.”
As if to mirror your secret, silence crept into the cracks, the break in conversation. It cowered behind the whispers of willow leaves when the breeze blew gentle and warm. Waves rippled and lapped at the shore, while Sam, for once, wasn’t quite sure what to say. His chest felt tight, heartbeat slow and steady, a direct contradiction of his mind which did nothing but race. Tension held in his shoulders, you saw him go still out the corner of your eye.
Eventually, he reached out to you, fingers skimming along your lower back to curl around your side. You relaxed into him, felt that lingering piece of heartache ease. Sam knotted his hand into the fabric of your clothing while he held you close.
That was all you needed just then, to feel him solid, real, near.
Your name tumbled off his tongue, quiet and drawn out. It dripped with the tender sweetness of an old lover, a hint of fear lurked in the wings of his crafted ease. Your chest cracked open – quick and quiet, but painful all the same – and you stopped him before he could start. Five months was a long time back, but it was also no time at all. These spells would would come in with the tide, but they would shrink away just the same.
Moments in time, you said to Sam after the first three months – after the novelty of a grand homecoming wore off and the graceless era of transitions and new lives had begun. You didn’t know how else to explain it. Sam knew grief – knew you – close enough to know what it was you couldn’t quite say. We’ll work through it, his hand wove through your own and gave a gentle squeeze.
As for the vibrant morning sun, she had finally broken through swaying branches hanging low, sage green leaves illuminated. The silhouettes were a patchwork of beautiful lattice windows to the brand new blue sky. It felt welcome, when warmer rays snuck through and swept across your face, a lovely change to the gloom that had nestled in your heart.
It felt even better when Sam gave your waist a squeeze, pressed a kiss to your crown. A quiet laugh, humorless, yet somehow very much not, spilled through his lips.
“A moment in time,” he repeats, hushed. “My love, always the optimist.”
“Well, someone has to keep up morale while you’re off gallivanting across the world.”
A smile had entered your voice, slowly and brightly climbing out of that dark that snuck in every so often. A kiss was pressed to Sam’s jaw.
He pulled away, just enough to see you. The ghost of a grin lingered on lips trying to keep serious. “Oh, so I gallivant now.”
Stated, not questioned. Your sullen composure cracked just a little bit more, and the lingering feelings of your past slid back into the water until their next unexpected arrival.
“Saving the world seems a little over done, doesn't it?”
“Oh come on,” he’s laughing now – you both are – and his fingers unwound from your clothing, arm loosened around your waist. Neither of you were aware how tightly he kept you close. “It has a nice ring to it.”
Shoulders shrug, you make an indifferent noise. “I mean.”
“What,” Sam grins, pushing himself to his feet. He reaches a hand to you, pulls you up to stand beside him. “Don’t tell me you don’t like to brag.”
You pull a face, the last of your words mix with a giggle. “Is that what you think I do?”
“That’s what I know you do, I get to hear about it every time I come home-”
“Who says-”
“Everyone on the block-”
The bickering continues, all lighthearted and love-struck, making up for lost time. The louder the laughter grew, the warmer the morning blossomed, the fuller your hearts became. You realized, as Sam carried you inside – haphazardly – there were no ghosts here, not anymore.
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