Steve felt a another twinge in his chest, accompanied by a swell of sudden anger. She was with Leon? Why the hell didn't she say something before? It would have saved him a lot of grief and a lot of feeling like he'd just sacrificed his pride for no reason. He'd rather have just suffered out rejection in silence than have come in here and made himself look like a jackass. But he didn't want to say anything about it to her. He didn't want to lose control of his emotions. The fact he hadn't already run off or burst into tears was the only shred of dignity he felt he had left in this conversation, and he was going to hold onto it, goddammit.

Besides. He wasn't about to start whining about Leon. He didn't want to think about Leon at all. This was about him and Claire.

Steve yanked out one of the chairs and sank down into it, very pointedly facing in the opposite direction of where she was. "Your little brother?" he repeated quietly, and then he had to shake off that kick in the ego, too. Claire obviously didn't mean it in a bad way. But god, was he sick of being seen as a kid.