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I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater
You said it looked better on me than it did you
Only if you knew how much I liked you
You watched them from the corner of the quinjet with trained eyes after the unsuccessful mission, your leg bouncing and thumbs fiddling.
They were talking quietly, their hands interlocked and staring into each other’s eyes like that was the one thing grounding them to the world.
All you wanted was to go home and wrap yourself in his sweater that he left in your room that one fateful day in December. To pretend that he was hugging you as you inhaled the homely scent of wood and leather. To pretend like he wasn’t looking at her like she was his everything. To pretend like he loved you.
But I watch your eyes as she
Walks by
What a sight for sore eyes
Brighter than the blue sky
She's got you mesmerized while I die
He wouldn’t stop looking at her, and it was killing you. His baby blue eyes looking into her green ones. Like two oceans merging together. And you were the person on the little boat, holding on for dear life as they glided swiftly into each other, not even realizing you were there.
Why would you ever kiss me?
I'm not even half as pretty
You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester
But you like her better
Wish I were Heather
Even with grime and dirt marks covering her face, she was beautiful. Her face carved perfectly like a sculpture, her hair loose around her face, her body shaped like a goddess - she was everything you wanted to be. She was everything you couldn’t be.
She was gorgeous.
Just like him.
His gentle face full of compassion. The little lines on his temple from worrying about everyone. The way his eyes wrinkled up when he smiled. The way his laugh made everyone in the room grin.
Every single thing about him was beautiful. And it was all her’s.
Watch as she stands with her, holding your hand
Put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder
But how could I hate her? She's such an angel
She gripped his hands tighter as they leaned into each other, foreheads touching as they whispered soft words to one another.
She placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, and your throat burned with tears.
But you didn’t have the heart to truly hate her. She was so kind, so strong, so powerful. She was her. How could you dislike someone like her?
They deserved each other. He went through so much, she went through so much. He was a hero, she was a hero. He needed love, she needed love.
. . . But you wanted to be the one to give it to him.
But then again, kinda wish she were dead as she
Walks by
What a sight for sore eyes
Brighter than the blue sky
She's got you mesmerized while I die
Screw it. You fucking hated her.
The way he looked at her broke your heart, but the way she looked at him simply aggravated you. Like he was her world. Like she couldn’t live without him. Like she deserved him. Like she was the only one who could love him. Like she was his.
Why would you ever kiss me?
I'm not even half as pretty
You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester
But you like her better
I wish I were Heather
You could already imagine it. He would come knocking on your door, asking if he left his sweater there. And the very next day, you would see her in the kitchen of the compound, wearing the fucking sweater. Wearing your fucking sweater.
Your skin was already crawling at the thought of it. But you knew it was inevitable.
I wish I were Heather
You wished it was you. Who got to hold his hand. Who got to kiss his face. Who got to love him. Who got to be loved by him. But it wasn’t.
It was her.
Why would you ever kiss me?
I'm not even half as pretty
You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester
You watched him rest his head on her shoulder and grip her thigh like she was his anchor.
They were perfect together. Steve and Natasha. Even their names sounded perfect together.
Steve and Natasha. Steve and Natasha. Steve and Natasha. Steve and Natasha. Steve and Natasha. Steve and Natasha. Steve and Natasha.
Steve. And Natasha.
Natasha.
But you like her better
Not you.
Wish I were . . .