He Was Also Called Steve

The old man stood dumbly at the doorway, watching everything unfold.

He watched Peggy spin in the young man's palm.

He watched them gaze into each other's eyes for a long time after the dance ended, their eyes gleaming in the darkness.

He watched them draw close, then burn for each other.

He knew that young man. He also knew that young Peggy Carter.

But this... this was wrong.

Shouldn't Steve be sitting by the bed right now, sorrowfully listening to the elderly Peggy recount her life?

So where had that whole elderly Peggy gone?

Could this young man have made her young again?

The streetlights outside flickered on just then.

The dim yellow light streamed through the window, passed through the gap between the kissing Steve and Peggy, and illuminated the old man's vacant face at the door.

He had the same eyes as Steve, the same features.

Aside from his sagging skin, bent back, and thinner frame from old age, he was practically another Steve Rogers.

His heart was anything but calm.

Before he knew it, he took a step forward.

There was a soft clatter.

In the room, where only heavy breathing and the sound of water could be heard, it was exceptionally clear.

It finally made Steve and Peggy, locked in each other's arms, notice the old man.

Sensing something, they turned their heads and saw the old man standing there in a daze, wanting to speak but unable to.

"Who are you...?" Steve found the old man incredibly familiar.

"Steve!" Peggy covered her mouth and gasped.

She instinctively released Steve from her tight embrace and stepped back. She even instinctively tugged at her wrinkled hospital gown.

"What's wrong, Peggy?" Steve heard the panic in Peggy's voice and hurriedly turned around.

But what he saw was