( it's hard to miss the pink doormat in front of the threshold, or the name plate just above the mail slot — hart, k. — decorated with silver glitter. so she likes a little flair. so what? it's like decorating your locker, totally normal. clary did hers too, so it's at least two against two on this particular issue for the third floor. )
[ It's starting to seem like most of the people he knows or meets just aren't located in his building. But that's probably for the best. Better to branch outside his building when he can. Get to know the people he probably won't see on an everyday sort of basis.
Steve does just as he promises. He stops at a market on the way. He's not entirely sure what to make, but he'll wing it. He grabs what he needs and heads towards Gamma Building. It actually is easy to spot her door when he gets there. Not that he knows pink is the Kimberly Hart special, but the glittery name plate is actually fairly easy to distinguish from all the others. Apparently she got creative. Good for her. For half a second he runs the tip of his index finger along the name before he balls his fist up and knocks. ]
( it doesn't take her long at all to answer the door. the rooms really aren't that big, after all, and she's... well, not excited exactly, that doesn't seem like the right word, but not not excited either. she's looking forward to seeing him, to finding out exactly how this particular evening is going to go, and that energy results in a quick stroll across the living room towards the door.
with a swing, the door opens up wide, revealing kimberly's friendly smile that lights up all five foot six inches of her thin frame. there's no hesitation in gesturing him inside, or in taking those bags right out of his arms, setting them on her kitchen counters to be investigated and doled out as needed; once the door closes and locks behind him, she's all too glad to spin back around and peer up at him. )
I thought you said no more than five minutes, Mr Rogers?
[ Steve's used to everyone looking young these days. It doesn't really occur to him to ask Kimberly how old she really is. Who knows if he'd even be bothered? Back in his time people were getting married a lot younger. Then again a war was going on and people were afraid. Fear made you do all sorts of funny things. He knows that from experience. But eighteen is eighteen. He remembers being eighteen. Then again eighteen is a lot different here in this time. People are different. Everything is pretty much different than what Steve Rogers remembers. Which is why he knew he had to adapt. Not wait for others.
She's youthful. Small. But that doesn't mean much. She's eager. Steve smiles as she takes the bags and he steps inside. He follows her into the kitchen where she breaks off to close the door behind him. He's about to turn to the bags when she's back facing him again. Steve smiles and shrugs his shoulders. ] I think I said you had five minutes to be ready. I don't remember giving myself a timer.
[ Which is why he's smiling as he turns to the bags to take everything out. He knew that going to the market was going to take a little bit of time. ] You can just call me Steve though. [ The only people to ever call him Mr. Rogers were back when he was enlisting. Ever since then it's always been Captain or Captain Rogers. Though these days he's more civilian than anything else. He might have to start getting used to Mr. Rogers. ]
Okay, Steve. ( it's strange, how the word feels like so strange in her mouth. she's met guys named steve and variations of it before; it's not as if the name has completely gone out of fashion, but there's something about the way he says it that makes it feel... well, old-fashioned, for lack of a better word.
the banter is easy, almost friendly in a way, as they unload the bags and settle things out against the countertops, and while kimberly hasn't exactly made a mental checklist of her kitchen's assorted accessories, it doesn't take too much rummaging before she finds the pots and pans in their cabinet homes. there's not much else beyond the basics, but it's enough to cook a meal. she hopes, anyway. )
You know, I can't think of the last time a guy offered to make me dinner. ( or wanted to have dinner in an apartment, for that matter. most of her dates — the ones that could actually be referred to as dates, anyway — had involved the standby classic of dinner out, meeting up somewhere on neutral ground to see how things would go before determining the rest of the evening. but there was something about him, something trustworthy, that made her a little more willing to welcome him in like this. to not feel quite so much on display. ) You're going to spoil me if you keep this up.
[ Well, old-fashioned is probably the nicest way to describe Steve Rogers. Usually Natasha prefers old or fossil. But Kimberly is a little bit kinder in her assessments of Steve. He's certainly been getting out there and meeting folks more and more since coming here. He might have been a bit more awkward if he hadn't already had several interactions. Not to mention how he's been spending his time with Sara. You're actually getting a more confident Steve Rogers in this arena. Though she's definitely far younger than him. He can already tell. Even by normal standards. There's just something youthful about the way she looks at him. Like maybe he's a record player.
It shouldn't be too hard to make her some dinner even if she's missing a few essentials. They aren't going to hit too many hiccups. Steve's a dedicated guy. Stubborn is what Bucky would say. He doesn't let little bumps stop him. For instance if she had absolutely no silverware than they could eat with their fingers. It would just maybe give them a better understand of the other one. Not too bad. ]
You're definitely not hanging out with the right kinda guys then.
[ Shots fired. But Steve's never had that much chill. Going out on a date as just fine back in his time. It was the thing. Dance halls. Dinner. Movies. But sometimes dinner at home was far simpler and cheaper. Especially during the war. Deep down Steve is still just a thrifty eighteen year old living on his own after losing both his parents eventually. At least he had Bucky. ]
That's the aim here. Spoiling. [ He reaches for a tomato and then begins a hunt for a knife to start chopping. ] That's one thing I've gotten good at. Taking care of people.
( he sounds more like a disapproving father than a potential date for a moment, with his criticisms of the types of guys kimberly's hanging out with, and she can't help but laugh at the comparison. in contrast to the man in front of her, all six foot something of him, with his gentle smile and broad shoulders, maybe he's right. if he's the right kind of guy to hang out with, she's willing to meet those expectations.
there's not much in the kitchen, but he finds a knife in one of the drawers, and kimberly watches with ill-disguised appreciation as nimble fingers make easy work of the ingredients on hand. she's still not entirely sure what's on offer, but whatever it will be, she's growing more certain by the minute that it'll be well worth the wait. )
Not that I don't appreciate the show, but... did you need my help with anything?
[ Or maybe he's just prepping himself for some sort of daddy kink, Kimberly. You don't know. But it's true that he is everyone's dad. That's not far from the truth. He does not approve of men that won't treat her the way she deserves to be. Maybe they're nice in some ways or maybe they're just flings. But those things don't mean that they can slack in the way they treat you. That's wrong. More than wrong. Maybe he's naive. Maybe he's old fashioned. Either way he just believes that whether it's casual or not the person should at least be a decent person. It's only fair.
He does spend a lot more time avoiding getting stabbed and disarming people with knives than using them to chop vegetables. It's a nice change of pace to be here. He didn't learn how to cook when he got out of the ice. He learned long before. He'd been on his own since he was eighteen years old. Living with barely any money didn't give him a chance to go out and eat. He had to make his own meals. Make them last for as long as he could. Which makes him sound more depressing. ]
Um. How good are you at chopping vegetables? Cause if you're not gonna cut your fingertips off then I'll happily let you take over. But if you need a lesson or two about how to rock the blade we can do that.
Not... super experienced, honestly, but how hard can it be?
( it's a little more straightforward than she'd normally be, but there's something about the inherent goodness of steve rogers that makes her want to measure up along the way. as far as her abilities or lack thereof to rock a knife are concerned, she's a teenage girl with cable television, and food network binges weren't something entirely out of her wheelhouse.
as if to demonstrate, kimberly takes the offered knife by the handle, and sidles in between him and the countertop to continue chopping the ingredients left out. her motions aren't quite as practiced as someone who's spent a few years in the kitchen, and her cuts aren't as even as she'd like them to be, but it's serviceable at least. she could maybe do with a few lessons, though, if someone's in the mood to teach. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I'll grab some things from a market on my way.
no subject
( it's hard to miss the pink doormat in front of the threshold, or the name plate just above the mail slot — hart, k. — decorated with silver glitter. so she likes a little flair. so what? it's like decorating your locker, totally normal. clary did hers too, so it's at least two against two on this particular issue for the third floor. )
i'll be here :)
shorty action tag but yolo
Steve does just as he promises. He stops at a market on the way. He's not entirely sure what to make, but he'll wing it. He grabs what he needs and heads towards Gamma Building. It actually is easy to spot her door when he gets there. Not that he knows pink is the Kimberly Hart special, but the glittery name plate is actually fairly easy to distinguish from all the others. Apparently she got creative. Good for her. For half a second he runs the tip of his index finger along the name before he balls his fist up and knocks. ]
ya okay let's see how long that lasts
with a swing, the door opens up wide, revealing kimberly's friendly smile that lights up all five foot six inches of her thin frame. there's no hesitation in gesturing him inside, or in taking those bags right out of his arms, setting them on her kitchen counters to be investigated and doled out as needed; once the door closes and locks behind him, she's all too glad to spin back around and peer up at him. )
I thought you said no more than five minutes, Mr Rogers?
no subject
She's youthful. Small. But that doesn't mean much. She's eager. Steve smiles as she takes the bags and he steps inside. He follows her into the kitchen where she breaks off to close the door behind him. He's about to turn to the bags when she's back facing him again. Steve smiles and shrugs his shoulders. ] I think I said you had five minutes to be ready. I don't remember giving myself a timer.
[ Which is why he's smiling as he turns to the bags to take everything out. He knew that going to the market was going to take a little bit of time. ] You can just call me Steve though. [ The only people to ever call him Mr. Rogers were back when he was enlisting. Ever since then it's always been Captain or Captain Rogers. Though these days he's more civilian than anything else. He might have to start getting used to Mr. Rogers. ]
no subject
the banter is easy, almost friendly in a way, as they unload the bags and settle things out against the countertops, and while kimberly hasn't exactly made a mental checklist of her kitchen's assorted accessories, it doesn't take too much rummaging before she finds the pots and pans in their cabinet homes. there's not much else beyond the basics, but it's enough to cook a meal. she hopes, anyway. )
You know, I can't think of the last time a guy offered to make me dinner. ( or wanted to have dinner in an apartment, for that matter. most of her dates — the ones that could actually be referred to as dates, anyway — had involved the standby classic of dinner out, meeting up somewhere on neutral ground to see how things would go before determining the rest of the evening. but there was something about him, something trustworthy, that made her a little more willing to welcome him in like this. to not feel quite so much on display. ) You're going to spoil me if you keep this up.
no subject
It shouldn't be too hard to make her some dinner even if she's missing a few essentials. They aren't going to hit too many hiccups. Steve's a dedicated guy. Stubborn is what Bucky would say. He doesn't let little bumps stop him. For instance if she had absolutely no silverware than they could eat with their fingers. It would just maybe give them a better understand of the other one. Not too bad. ]
You're definitely not hanging out with the right kinda guys then.
[ Shots fired. But Steve's never had that much chill. Going out on a date as just fine back in his time. It was the thing. Dance halls. Dinner. Movies. But sometimes dinner at home was far simpler and cheaper. Especially during the war. Deep down Steve is still just a thrifty eighteen year old living on his own after losing both his parents eventually. At least he had Bucky. ]
That's the aim here. Spoiling. [ He reaches for a tomato and then begins a hunt for a knife to start chopping. ] That's one thing I've gotten good at. Taking care of people.
no subject
there's not much in the kitchen, but he finds a knife in one of the drawers, and kimberly watches with ill-disguised appreciation as nimble fingers make easy work of the ingredients on hand. she's still not entirely sure what's on offer, but whatever it will be, she's growing more certain by the minute that it'll be well worth the wait. )
Not that I don't appreciate the show, but... did you need my help with anything?
( you know, besides not-so-subtly staring. )
no subject
He does spend a lot more time avoiding getting stabbed and disarming people with knives than using them to chop vegetables. It's a nice change of pace to be here. He didn't learn how to cook when he got out of the ice. He learned long before. He'd been on his own since he was eighteen years old. Living with barely any money didn't give him a chance to go out and eat. He had to make his own meals. Make them last for as long as he could. Which makes him sound more depressing. ]
Um. How good are you at chopping vegetables? Cause if you're not gonna cut your fingertips off then I'll happily let you take over. But if you need a lesson or two about how to rock the blade we can do that.
[ There's a joke in there somewhere. ]
no subject
( it's a little more straightforward than she'd normally be, but there's something about the inherent goodness of steve rogers that makes her want to measure up along the way. as far as her abilities or lack thereof to rock a knife are concerned, she's a teenage girl with cable television, and food network binges weren't something entirely out of her wheelhouse.
as if to demonstrate, kimberly takes the offered knife by the handle, and sidles in between him and the countertop to continue chopping the ingredients left out. her motions aren't quite as practiced as someone who's spent a few years in the kitchen, and her cuts aren't as even as she'd like them to be, but it's serviceable at least. she could maybe do with a few lessons, though, if someone's in the mood to teach. )
Will that work for you?