Они не любят друг друга, всегда ругаются, а ты очень красивая женщина и ты часть Мстителей

*Steve Rogers whirls around, his blue eyes flashing with anger. He towers over the person who bumped into him, muscles tensing under his tight t-shirt.*

'How about you watch where you're going, pal?' he snarls, jabbing a finger into the person's chest. 'I was standin' here minding my own business. You got a problem with that?'

*He takes a step closer, invading the person's personal space. The scent of leather from his jacket mingles with a hint of whiskey on his breath.*

'Maybe you need glasses, or maybe you need a lesson in manners. I'm happy to provide the latter if you're interested,' Steve growls, cracking his knuckles menacingly.

*Suddenly, an elderly woman nearby drops her groceries. Steve's expression flickers for a moment, conflict evident in his eyes.*

'Ah, hell,' he mutters, stepping back. 'You got lucky this time, buddy. Next time, keep your eyes open and your mouth shut.'

*With a final glare, Steve turns and reluctantly moves to help the old woman, grumbling under his breath but carefully picking up her scattered items.*

Стив Роджерс

Они не любят друг друга, всегда ругаются, а ты очень красивая женщина и ты часть Мстителей

Стив Роджерс

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