Chapter Forty Four

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"What does this mean, Y/N?" Steve asks me.

He, Sam, Bucky, and I sit around the dining room table. The flower lies at the center, everyone eager to keep it as far away from themself as possible.

"I don't know who that is, Steve." I've given up on pretending I know who the name belongs to.

"Y/N, what are you talking about?"

My fist comes down on the tabletop harder than I intended it to.

"I told you I don't know who that is!"

"Stop, both of you. Just stop." Sam cuts in. He looks to me. "Y- uh, Sweetheart, can't you tell us anything about this? What it means?"

Bucky shoots him a warning glance.

My. Fucking. God.

"What are you all hiding!?" I demand, leaving my seat and looking from Sam to Bucky and then to Steve.

They glance at one another, none of them answering me.

"Forget it." I say, shoving my chair back against the table and walking to the door. "I'm going to get some air."

Sam stands and blocks my exit.

"You can't exactly... leave." He says.

"What?"

His eyes pang with guilt but I doubt any of it's his fault.

"You're a safety risk." He says apologetically.

I cross my arms over my chest and shake my head in frustration as I turn away from him.

Bucky stands and walks over to me.

"...doll, it's getting late. You're welcome to my room, I can sleep on the couch." He says gently. His hand finds my upper back as he guides me with a careful touch down a short hallway, stopping in front of a door.

When I hesitate, he turns the doorknob for me. A bed, dresser, and window covered by sheer curtains wait inside.

I look up to him, searching for a source of all this kindness. I can't quite see it. So I turn back to the room.

The bed neatly made, it sits dauntingly in the middle of the far wall.

"I haven't slept in so long." I say quietly as I look at it.

"I know." I turn back to him, and I can see the same look I did before. The one that shows just how much he understands. "But you need the rest. We all do."

He walks back into the main room and addresses the other two.

"We'll figure this out in the morning. Right now it's best to try and get some sleep."

They stand and say their goodbyes. The door opens and closes again. I stand in the doorway of his bedroom. A sigh escapes him as he walks to the before mentioned couch.

"You can sleep in here, if you want." I say just a little too quickly. "I don't mind sharing."

"That's alright." He says. "I wouldn't want to crowd you."

I chew the inside of my cheek and look off to the side, knowing my cheeks have flushed.

"Please?"

He pauses his arranging of the couch cushions and looks at me.

"Of course." He says, his lips lifting the slightest bit as he walks towards me.

I enter his room knowing he follows.

"You take the bed, I can sleep on the floor." He says, and I nod, sitting on the edge of his mattress. So long as he's close.

He pulls away one of the two pillows resting against the head board, yawns, and turns off the light. I hear him settling in.

"Night, doll." He says through another yawn. It only takes a few minutes for his breathing to even out.

Curious thoughts flow through my mind. Curious feelings flow through my chest.

"...goodnight, Bucky." I whisper to the air.

The way the mattress sinks under my weight makes me uneasy, but I try to lie down, if nothing but to be polite. But his bed is just too soft.

So I sleep much more comfortably on the floor, doing my best not to dream about the man a few feet over from me.

...

There is muffled noise of life nearby. I am only vaguely aware of the world.

His voice is clear.

"Y/N, darling, you've got to wake up."

Always the soft chuckle

Always

"Ngh..." I grumble.

Those words... it's been so long since I've heard those words...

I...

What words...?

I'm so tired...

I... where am I?

My eyes slowly open and light floods my vision. The floorboards are blurred up by my face but come into focus the farther away I look. Yesterday's events come back to me, one by one, in no particular order. I'd almost managed to forget about the flower, but no such luck. I sigh as I turn onto my back and envy the moment of blissful ignorance that had just passed.

There's nothing to do now but get up, and I'm starving.

I lift my heavy head, push myself up onto my knees, and then to my feet. I sway just a little, but walk coherently enough to the main room. Bucky's already beat me there.

"Good morning, doll face!" He laughs. "Did you sleep ok?"

I nod and yawn. The smell and sound of breakfast cooking is intoxicating. I walk to him and stand a little closer than I should, but he doesn't seem to mind. He takes a break from flipping bacon to look at me. His smile drops just a little and there's that look in his eyes again.

"The bed was too soft, wasn't it?" He asks like he already knows the answer.

My head tilts to the side.

"How did you know?" I ask.

"I saw you when I woke up, and the wood grain of the floorboards is still imprinted in your skin." He brushes his thumb gently over my cheek, and I realize just then how wonderful his touch is. Except it's not a new feeling.

Realization feels much more like remembering.

But I've never known him before. Not like this.

Our eyes connect.

Right?

Somehow I know I'd do anything just to see him smile.

...right?

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