[Quiet in the Chaos]

~15~

Please leave a vote or a comment, I'd really appreciate any feedback :D happy reading x

                                  ~15~

————————————————————

ONLY WHEN the automatic light on the porch switched on did the pair notice that the sun had set, the moon in its place. They had remained sat on the now dampened grass beside the fence, their renovation having halted hours ago.

Their conversation hadn't been deep or meaningful, rather useless comments about random topics they found themselves on, like food or books. Danielle had always been interested in older books, silently grateful now so she can speak with Bucky about them.

"I didn't notice it got dark," he mumbles quietly, his voice seemingly louder in the still, night air.

Danielle finds herself hanging on his every word, his voice becoming more comforting the longer she listens. "Me neither."

Her dark eyes travel up, flickering across the stars, attempting and failing to make out constellations. She never was any good at that. After a few moments, she feels a pair of eyes on her and looks back to him, causing him to glance away.

Truthfully, the feeling scares him. Caring, scares him.

"What are you thinking about?" She questions after the silence becomes unbearable. She needs him to speak. She doesn't want their easy conversation to end.

He hesitates slightly, shorter strands of his hair that had fallen from his bun fall across his cheekbones as he turns his head. "Why are you doing this?"

She blinks, her mind searching for the appropriate words. "I told you," she answers simply. "I know what it's like. I just wanted to help you."

He shakes his head. "No sane person would want to help me."

"Would you stop with the self loathing?" She questions, her sleek brows pulling together in a frown. He presses his lips together in a thin line. She sighs. "We're responsible, but it isn't our fault."

He nods softly,his arms draping over his knees. "Is that what your group says too?"

She breathes a quiet amused breath. "Smart ass," she teases.

He smirks slightly, plucking at stray strands of grass. "Thank you for helping me."

"You're welcome, James," she answers quietly, her gaze lingering on his eyes a little longer now.

Bucky glances up at his formal name. He hates the way his heart jumps as her lips curl upwards. His tongue runs over his dry lips. His eyes flicker to the goosebumps forming on her bare arms. "You're cold."

She shakes her head slightly. "I'm fine," she replies, not wanting the pair to move.

His forehead creases. "Come on, you're cold," he insists as he pushes himself onto his feet.

She rolls her eyes before they land on his outstretched hand. She hesitates for a moment, registering the look on his face as hope. She accepts it, tugging herself up. She gives it a squeeze as she falls into step beside him before she drops it, both greeted with a disappointment.

She moves onto the porch before him, cursing under her breath as she tugs the door, which sticks stubbornly to its hinges. She huffs, looking up to see Bucky smirking down at her.

"What?" She asks defensively, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes.

He shakes his head, an almost inaudible chuckle shaking his chest. Danielle's knees are almost weak at the sound. "Say it," she presses.

His grin only grows. "Nothing," he says after a moment, his amusement faltering before he comes back to look at her. His eyes rake over her tanned face, her shoulders slightly hunched to block out the cold. Her brows crinkle at his response. She notices the way his bright, blue eyes flicker to her lips. She swallows.

"You're something else," he whispers, a flicker of a smile passing over his unshaven face.

She purses her lips teasingly, a mock defensive expression engraved on her face. But her teasing halts as his gaze intensifies, her breathing picking up slightly. She doesn't dare look away, attempting to silently assure him of his next move.

Tentatively, desperately afraid the girl will shatter at his touch, his flesh hand raises to linger an inch from her cheek. His eyes glance away from her lips to her eyes, asking permission. Her tongue runs across her lips, dry with nerves. His fingers brush a strand of hair behind her ear. He allows his hand to lower slightly, lightly holding her earlobe between his index finger and thumb, before moving it along her jaw. Sickeningly slowly, the man traces the shape of her face. His stomach twists with nerves that he may hurt her.

Seeing his hesitation, she raises her own hand to grasp his forearm. She nods fractionally, attempting to tell the soldier she isn't afraid.

He blinks, leaning in, causing both their stomach's to flip, Danielle conscious of her sweaty palm on his arm but he barely notices. With his last ounce of courage he closes the last centimetre between them, pressing his lips against the soft skin of her cheek, tantalisingly near her lips.

Danielle's heart jerks violently in her chest, her eyes closing, concentrating on the comfort of his touch. She shudders as his cold, metal hand rests on her hip as he presses slightly harder into their kiss.

After a moment that seems to last them forever, but still ends too quickly, Danielle stifles a pout as he pulls away, his gaze dropping to his feet, his metal hand lingering slightly on her waist before he pulls both hands away.

She swallows, begging herself to remember the feeling of his touch. She waits until the man nervously brings his eyes to meet hers. She smiles fractionally, her eyes crinkling.

"Thank you," he whispers sincerely, his eyes bearing into hers.

She needn't ask what he is thanking her for. She has given him hope. Help. A prospect of becoming more than what they made him. She smiles slightly, offering a small nod.

She struggles to stifle the schoolgirl grin that threatens to expose her cool demeanour. Bucky's eyes widen slightly, his lips tugging upwards. He nods. He glances up, pulling open the door easily. He nods for her to go ahead.

She steps in as he closes it behind them, her body tingling. She knows he's pushed himself. The pair make their way up the stairs slowly, scared to face the night alone.

"Dani," he calls softly.

She hums glancing over to where he stands outside his bedroom. He blinks, his body stiffening. "Could you, um, could you help me with something?" He stumbles over his words.

She drops her hand from her door handle. "Yeah, of course."

"My arm, I think," he glances up to her intense dark eyes, "I need to get it off."

The thing is, the reason why he asks her, is because of how instant understanding washes over her and wordlessly, she follows him into his room. She doesn't ask why, because she knows. She gets it. And he's thankful as she helps it slip it off, ignoring the dull pain that pulses through his shoulder. And as he looks to the weapon in her arms, he feels free.

Almost innocent.

Almost.

She notices the shift in his stance, the lightness in his features and she smiles softly. "Goodnight, Bucky," she murmurs.

His lips tug upwards slightly as she makes her way slowly to the door.

"Night, Doll."