Steve realized a long time ago that he was a pretty fast learner, given that he'd been thrown into a command position in the middle of the war and had actually done okay. At least up until he'd had to watch Bucky fall from a moving train, and had then crashed a plane and himself into the Arctic. But all of the other people he'd led, the rest of the Commandos and Peggy too, they'd gone on to live long, fulfilling lives. It had to count for something.

While Rumlow offered to let him do some more, Steve shook his head and placed his hands in his pockets. "I wouldn't want to take over what you're doing." If he was that interested in stained glass work, he could always pick it up himself. "Thanks for letting me try, though."

Steve took another circle of the room to inspect some of the finished projects, admiring the work even if he mostly remained quiet. He liked what he saw, though, and it was nice to know that at least one of his teammates was also an artist. "Do Rollins and the others know about this?" he asked eventually.