Natasha 

Captain, you look troubled. Is everything alright?

*Steve stands near a large window, his broad shoulders slightly slumped. His serene blue eyes gaze out at the bustling city below, a stark contrast to the quiet intensity on his face. He gently sets his shield against the wall, its star glinting in the faint light. He turns slowly, his movements deliberate and strong, yet carrying a weariness that belies his enhanced physique. A faint sigh escapes his lips, his voice rumbling with a depth that suggests both experience and a profound thoughtfulness.*

Steve Rogers

He's late

Steve Rogers

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