Archive of Our Own

The sun was shining in through the small gap between the curtains covering Angie’s bedroom window. It was still early morning, but Angie should have risen from her bed over an hour ago. However, she couldn’t bring herself to. She managed to call out to work, and rehearsals for the play she had been cast in didn’t start for another week. She pulled the covers tighter around herself, wanting to just disappear into them. A light knock at her door urged her to roll over toward it, but wasn’t enough to get her out of the bed.

“Angie? Are you alright, darling?” Angie heard her lover’s concerned voice through the door. Angie was usually already in the kitchen making breakfast when Peggy finished her shower. She must have sensed something was off when the actress wasn’t there to greet her with a kiss and a cup of tea as she was every other morning.

“I’m okay, Peggy,” Angie answered. She tried to keep her voice light, but she’s not sure she managed. “I’m just a bit under the weather.”

“Do you need for me to call work for you?”

“I already did. Don’t worry about me, hon. Have a good day at work.”

“Alright.”

Angie listened as Peggy walked away from her room. The click-clack of the Englishwoman’s heels fading away as she left her to her lonesome. She rolled back over facing the window and stared blankly at the heavy curtains. She tried with all her might to hold on to the feeling that Peggy gave her. The happiness and warmth, the love and safety. To let that fill her up instead of the all-consuming sadness she felt as she awoke that morning.

She doesn’t understand why. Why now? She can’t imagine her life to be any better than it is right now. Her life is as close to perfect as any persons could be.

Although she still had her waitressing job at the automat, she landed her first big role in a play. It was an off-Broadway production, but just barely. She’ll be playing the lead character’s best friend, and will be in a majority of the scenes. Rehearsals start in just under a week. Besides, her job at the L&L was much better since she cut her hours back. Not having to spend day after day there just to make rent was a delightful change.

Her living situation was better than it had ever been. Sure, she loved her family, but all them crammed in that tiny Brooklyn apartment wasn’t the most pleasant experience. The apartments she’d lived in after that were tiny little shoeboxes, barely enough room for a bed, which she still couldn’t afford on her own. The Griffith was nice, but living in Howard Stark’s penthouse was something else. Even in all her day-dreaming of being a Broadway star she had never imagined a place as amazing. The giant rooms, high ceilings, fancy decorating, expensive furniture, and phone in every room. It was like something out of a movie.

The best part however, was her roommate. Living with Peggy Carter was by far the greatest experience of her life. Especially since that night all those months ago when the word ‘roommate’ was no longer a strong enough word to describe what their relationship was to one another. Neither was the word ‘friend’. Being Peggy Carter’s girlfriend, her lover and partner, was everything to Angie. She could still be living in one of those shoebox apartments from before, and as long as she had Peggy it wouldn’t matter. Peggy Carter hugging her and kissing her, holding her through the night when they shared a bed. It was the kind of love she’d always dreamt of, but never thought she’d have. Peggy Carter was the best thing that ever happened to her.

So why was it then, that she felt so sad?

She couldn’t understand it. Everything was falling into place. Everything was perfect. And yet, she couldn’t even drag herself out of bed this morning.

Sure, the days she felt like this were fewer and further between. Waking up that morning with the familiar sinking feeling in her chest…it was the first time since moving in with Peggy that it happened.

She thought she was better.

She hated herself that she wasn’t.

The opening of her bedroom door startled her a little, but not enough for her to roll over to confront the intruder. Although she didn’t hear the click-clack of her heels, she knew it was Peggy anyhow. The air in the room always shifted when Peggy entered. It was lighter, sweeter. She heard soft footfalls as Peggy strode over to her bedside. Angie remembered just then that she hadn’t worn pajamas to bed, the air warm and stifling the night before. She preferred to sleep naked when she could get away with it. That was another thing she loved about the penthouse, the heating always worked.

Angie heard the rustling of clothing then felt the mattress dip behind her. Peggy must have noticed her bare back exposed from the covers, because when she laid down behind Angie, when Angie felt her press against her back, she felt nothing in between them. Peggy’s bare breasts pressed against Angie’s back, Peggy’s nude legs intertwining with her own as Peggy wrapped an arm around her waist. Angie could feel all of Peggy pressing against her. There was nothing sexual about it, but it was oh so comforting.

Angie felt tears prick the backs of her eyelids and couldn’t stop the sniffles or the way her shoulders shook slightly as she tried to hold back the tears. Peggy just held her tighter, occasionally pressing kisses to the back of her neck. Neither of them spoke, Peggy just held her tight as she cried herself out.

“I’m sorry,” Angie murmured quietly once her tears subsided. Peggy kissed Angie’s neck again as her fingertips stroked gently across Angie’s stomach.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, my love,” Peggy whispered back. “Would you like to talk about whatever’s bothering you?”

“’s nothing really,” Angie sniffled. “I don’t know.”

“Just suffering from a bout of ennui?”

Angie nodded, sniffling again. Peggy kissed her again, her shoulder this time. Angie felt Peggy shifting behind her as she raised up onto her elbow. The hand not around Angie’s waist reached forward brushing Angie’s hair back.

“Do you need anything?”

Angie shook her head.

“Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?”

The concern lacing Peggy’s words made Angie’s heart ache. Angie inhaled deeply, breathing in the subtle perfume Peggy wore, and let herself really feel the arm wrapped so securely around her waist. She reached down laying her hand atop Peggy’s, lacing her fingers with the ones splayed across her stomach. Squeezing the hand gently, she brought them both up. She kissed Peggy’s knuckles before bringing their intertwined hands to her chest. She held Peggy’s hand there, pressed against the spaced between her breasts, holding it tight.

“You’re already doing it, English,” she answered.