Being a polite gentleman, Steve didn't release her hand until her own grip began to slacken, not noticing anything strange about the length of time that took; he hadn't shook many dames' hands, so had no real point of reference. He noted her palms and fingers were smooth, no real calluses, and it brought to mind the ladies his mother washed and mended clothes for when he was a child, always wearing gloves and large hats with feathers or fur trim, smelling of expensive perfume and, under that, expensive alcohol. Back when people could afford to have others do their laundry, back when his mother could afford to work from home. He laughed at her promise of getting him out relatively unharmed. He unconsciously reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, and he could feel his ears heating up, which meant his entire face was most likely an unseemly shade of blushing pink.
"Nice to meet you, Marie," he responded. "And fortunately, I've dealt with worse than little old ladies playing-- uhh-- grab-ass, with me." Now he could actually feel his face turning red; he'd been raised not to swear in front of a woman, and while he could swear with the best of them, there was a time and a place, and a social function with a polite southern woman was not one of those places. "Although since it's probably frowned on to punch anyone in the face for that--" Once again, it took precious seconds for his brain to catch up to his mouth. "Not!--uhh, of course, not that I would, I just mean--"
He finally just slapped his hand over his face, then slowly dragged it down, before letting his shoulders slump. "This...would be about the time I'd let you politely back out of the conversation. Or at least change the subject, but I make no guarantee I'll be any better talking about anything else." He could hold perfectly clear conversations, but put him next to a pretty girl, even a complete stranger, and his brain seemed to dribble out his ears. He knew, somewhere, Bucky was laughing his ass off at him, and Steve honestly didn't know how that thought made him feel.
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"Nice to meet you, Marie," he responded. "And fortunately, I've dealt with worse than little old ladies playing-- uhh-- grab-ass, with me." Now he could actually feel his face turning red; he'd been raised not to swear in front of a woman, and while he could swear with the best of them, there was a time and a place, and a social function with a polite southern woman was not one of those places. "Although since it's probably frowned on to punch anyone in the face for that--" Once again, it took precious seconds for his brain to catch up to his mouth. "Not!--uhh, of course, not that I would, I just mean--"
He finally just slapped his hand over his face, then slowly dragged it down, before letting his shoulders slump. "This...would be about the time I'd let you politely back out of the conversation. Or at least change the subject, but I make no guarantee I'll be any better talking about anything else." He could hold perfectly clear conversations, but put him next to a pretty girl, even a complete stranger, and his brain seemed to dribble out his ears. He knew, somewhere, Bucky was laughing his ass off at him, and Steve honestly didn't know how that thought made him feel.