Under Pastel Skies

Chapter 7

You grumbled into your pillow when you heard your phone buzz on the bedside table. Cracking one eye open, you lifted your phone and squinted to read the neon numbers showing on the screen.

7:12 a.m.

You had an email notification, nothing important, but it somehow managed to come through the 'Do Not Disturb' feature. You knew you wouldn't be able to go back to sleep so you got up and padded barefoot into the kitchen.

A smile curled up your lips when you saw the leftovers from your made-up holiday. There were a few cookies and muffins in a plate, a large bowl of cereals, and two dirty milkshake glasses on the counter.

It had been a fun and relaxing couple of days. You ate, talked, played board games, and watched movies in your fanciest loungewear attire. Bucky sought your touch more than usual and it left you a little confused. Every time he touched you, the line between feelings of friendship and feelings of love became blurred.

Bucky was an early riser, always up before you, dressed in his usual khakis and long sleeved Henley shirts with his hair slightly tousled. He looked effortlessly sexy and always had a warm smile for you even though you looked like a hot mess in your mismatched pyjamas, staggering into the kitchen, blindly following the smell of food cooking on the stove.

Today, the kitchen was silent. Bucky was probably still asleep, so you decided to cook breakfast. Maybe, if you were lucky, you'd catch him in his night clothes.

Wasting no time, you made a beeline for the coffee machine. You filled the water tank and measured fresh grounds into the filter, but your task was interrupted when you heard groans coming from somewhere nearby. You soon figured out that the sounds were coming from the living room.

Curious, you silently made your way toward the sound. The shades were up, and you could see the midnight blue sky fading into pastel hues of yellow and pink with the approaching dawn. Under any other circumstances, you would have been completely enraptured by its beauty, but something else caught your attention.

Bucky was standing upside down with his head on a yoga mat. His eyes were closed and his features were set in an expression of serious concentration. You half hid behind the wall and observed him.

You were impressed, his headstand was perfectly vertical and he was doing it without hand support, meaning that he was supporting his entire weight on his neck. He slowly lowered one toe back down, then the other, before he rested his forearm on the mat and lifted his butt toward the ceiling, his body forming a perfect inverted V.

"You're up already," he asked, sitting back on his haunches. "I can hear you breathing behind that wall."

Busted...

You peeked out into the living room and cringed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you but that was sooo impressive." You walked into the room and perched yourself on the arm of the sofa, facing Bucky who was kneeling at your feet. "How do you do that?"

He chuckled, his cheeks red from exertion and bashfulness. "Practice. Yoga's good for building strength."

He looked up at you with a boyish smile, his hair damp with perspiration. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, rolling too close to his eyes and making him squint.

His pants left little to the imagination, the fabric stretched across his powerful thighs, and his sleeveless shirt clung to his drenched chest, outlining his muscles. Your eyes darted to his left shoulder where his stump was visible.

Despite living with him for over two months, you had never seen him in one of those sleeveless shirts before, though you couldn't blame him since it was the middle of winter and you hadn't been wearing any either. It was warm inside the apartment but not enough to walk around bare-armed.