Work Text:
Frank is simply the sweetest.
You love when he holds your hand on the sidewalk when walking to the grocery store that's near by. But he would neverlet you walk on the side closest to the road.
You figured that was just the parental instinct in him, or just because he was protective of you. Or maybe it was because you two recently started dating.
But when you walk in front of him and a little too closely to the edge of the curb, he pulls you close to his side farthest from the street, and secures your hand in his. His hands now rough and calloused from years of protecting his country and his city.
And you, of course.
You loved how large his hands were compared to yours, and just how warm he was. It was getting a little colder out now, so Frank made sure to bundle you up in your warmest jacket, a scarf, and one of his beanies.
You wore gloves, but what was the point of gloves when Frank was as warm as a summer day? Sure you couldnt stick your hands under his shirt to warm them, but you could still hold his warm hand and stick it in his jacket pocket.
Of course— Frank wore gloves. But that didn't stop you from sliding a finger or two under his glove, even though heat practically radiated through the soft fabric. Frank would look at you suspiciously, and blush, or maybe that was the cold wind on his cheeks. But he would never say a thing. Figuring you just wanted skin on skin contact for his warmth.
You also loved when Frank would come up behind you, but gently place a hand on your lower back, just to let you know he's there.
And he would do this everywhere.
You figured he just wanted the touch and feel of you. Or because— again— you two were newly dating, but you would never say a single thing because you would drink it in every time.
He would do this in the grocery store you two were walking to, in the kitchen when you both are cooking a meal for dinner, or just to simply let his hands rest on you.
You don't mind this, because, again, he was just so warm.
But one of the sweetest things by far you think he always does for you after he tells you he's going to be gone a long while on a mission, is a small bouquet of roses. Every week. You know he probably pre-orders them, but you don't care.
You wait for every Thursday at 12:30 on the dot for the flowers on the doormat outside your shared apartment with him while he's gone (that's when you suspect he pre-ordered the day for the flowers to come).
There's always some sweet note on the flowers like: "I'll be back soon," or "I hope you think of me when you see these flowers."
Or it's a short poem like: "A day of your time is too short, but an eternity with you would never be long enough," or maybe "if you held two hearts in your hands, one would be mine, but both would be yours."
You would never fail to cherish all the poems and notes he gave you. You figured he wrote the poems himself, or got them from a cheesy book of his, but you always kept them.
You had so many of these little cards of notes and poems, that while Frank was out on a mission, you went to a nearby thrift store to find a small wooden box for all his notes. Just so you could cherish them all the more and to have a place for the accumulating cards.
Frank, never knew you kept them. So it was a sort of surprise to find a small, dark wood box filled to the brim with his cards.