James Bucky Barnes, the former soldier, doesn't think he's got any gentleness left in him. But Grace Juniper Cunningham, the former child prodigy, strongly disagrees.
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"𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯."
"𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴�...
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Grace was avoiding me again.
Not as blatantly as the first time, back when she'd had FRIDAY warn her when I was coming. But it hurt worse this time. This time, I didn't know how to fix it.
As a couple of weeks passed, I saw her around. A lot. She was working on her robots in the lab, getting used to her job. She was getting closer to Natasha and Wanda. She was hanging around Colin a lot, too. He had his old job back, and I saw them playing chess together all over the building. She was adjusting.
The temperature was dropping outside. She'd switched to darker colored skirts and dresses with cardigans and sweaters that draped over her little frame like blankets. She looked so fucking cozy all the time. I wanted to hold her. I wanted her in my bed.
Was that pathetic? Fantasizing about cuddling with her? I was fantasizing about ripping through her tights, too. Right now, as she was hurrying toward me in an otherwise empty conference room, I didn't move to meet her halfway. I wanted to watch her for longer. I was thinking about what the most efficient way of getting her naked would be (hypothetically, if the opportunity were to present itself).
"Bucky? Steve asked me to give you this," she said, extending her arms as far as they'd go to hold a thick file out to me.
"What is it?" I asked. Steve would use any excuse to send her to talk to me.
"Um, I don't know. I didn't look."
"I think Steve just wanted to send you over to me, doll."
"Okay, well, then, can you please just take it?" she asked.
I took it and dropped it on the table next to me. "Don't go yet, Grace. Please."
She stared at me expectantly as I stood up to talk to her.
"They're not gonna come back if you don't want them to," I said. "The memories, I mean. You have to be open to it."
"I am. I'm remembering lots of stuff."
"Yeah? Have you remembered anything else about me?"
She shrugged, and I took it as a 'no.'
"That's what I mean," I said.
"Sorry," she huffed.
"I am too," I said earnestly. "I miss you. Are you doing okay? You seem like it."
"I'm fine," she said quickly, in way that made me think she wasn't actually doing fine at all.
"Sleeping okay?" I asked her. I always wanted to text and call her at night. But I hadn't. Not since the night she canceled the date, when I'd texted and called her with no response. She wanted to be left alone.
