The idea of marrying Natasha had been there - well - for a while. Deep down Steve was still that good Catholic boy who had gone to Mass every Sunday and knew that the proper way of doing what he and Natasha were doing was with a ring on her finger. It was more than that of course. Far more than some outdated notion of the proper thing to do. How could it not be. He loved her. More than he had thought himself capable of loving someone. He knew there would never be anyone, or anything, he would want more than her. So marriage, to him, was the next logical step in their relationship.
Steve knew, however, that Natasha might have had a differing opinion on that. Especially at this stage in their relationship. It hadn’t been that long after all, since they’d even started being open a
