You watched for a moment as Steve brought the axe down against the wood, the muscles of his arms straining. It was hard not to admire him, even though you knew he wasn’t in the best of moods with you right now.
“What’s the log ever done to you?” You asked, trying to ease the tension.
Steve half turned to face you, slamming the head of the axe into the top of a log and letting it stay there as he did.
“Unless you’re here to apologise, I’ve got work to do,” he stated, going to walk past but you caught his arm in your hand, your heightened strength allowing you to halt his movements.
“I’m not apologising for saving your life, Rogers,” you spoke calmly, letting go of his arm under his hardened gaze.
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