Electric / Steve Rogers x OC x Bucky Barnes ✓

Chapter 45: Butterflies

MADELINE

The light creeping through my drapes wake me up. 

I open my eyes to see Bucky's face in front of me, his eyes closed as he sleeps silently. His metal arm is around my waist and his face is only inches from mine. 

I watch him as he sleeps. 

I remember the nightmare from last night and him coming to wake me up. I remember how it calmed me, him being this close to me. How it felt right although I know it shouldn't. 

I remember my nightmare. Him and Steve, both dying as I watched, me being the cause of it. 

As I think back to the nightmare my chest hurts. 

I try to focus on Bucky in front of me and I study his features. 

He is beautiful. His hair is long and he is so different from Steve, but he is still just as beautiful. His chest is bare, the dog tags lying lazily against his skin and the bed, and his dark hair is framing his face. I study the stubble on his cheek and his perfectly defined jaw. 

I think back to what Steve told me about Bucky being the darker version of himself and after last night, I understand. Bucky was able to calm me down and comfort me. 

I haven't had a single nightmare since being with Steve but I knew, I just knew, they would return the second he left. And they did. 

But Bucky was here for me and the second he held me close, they disappeared again. I slept peacefully for the rest of the night.

I know I shouldn't feel this way and it makes me feel instantly guilty. I love Steve, more than anyone I've ever known before, and that won't change. But I love Bucky too. It's just in a slightly different way. 

I move my gaze down to his naked chest. In a lot of ways he looks like Steve. 

The biggest difference are the scars embellishing his shoulder, surrounding the metal arm. 

I know from the past that his arm is uncomfortable for him. 

I know it's kept him from wearing t-shirts and tank tops for a long time, because he was ashamed of the scars and the history that arm brought with it. 

I study it closely.

The metal plates meeting each other, the red star resting on it, like a threat of the past. 

The faded scars that look like tattoos, telling a story. Like each of them holds their own meaning, a memory. And although they all might be painful, they all still define Bucky and the beautiful mess he is. 

I lift my finger to his shoulder as I trace them lightly. 

I don't even completely realize I'm doing it, entranced by the beauty of not only him but his past, and what he considers his flaws and mistakes. 

I only realize once I feel him shift and I see him open his eyes abruptly as a reaction to my touch. 

I retract my hand quickly as I look up at him embarrassed, having been caught doing something I probably shouldn't have. 

His gaze meets mine and I am once again caught in those steel blue eyes of his. They're staring into my soul, reading my mind. Or at least, that's what it feels like. 

He just looks at me for a while and I smile at him. 

"Thank you for being here last night," I say.

He smiles at me softly, "I will always be here." 

It makes my stomach flutter and I get the urge to pull him close to me, wanting to feel him against me, his skin against mine, but I refrain.