Eyes of Fire | Bucky Barnes

23

Uxolo had forced him to visit her house a multitude of times, whether under the pretense of stuffing him full of all her favorite Xhosan foods, or to expose  him to the literature or other forms of entertainment he'd missed out on (and seemed to be depriving himself of).

And each time she'd offered him the chance to stay, he'd declined without even taking a second to think about it.

This time, he thought about it: why had he been declining in the first place?

Bucky enjoyed spending time with her, liked hearing her accidentally spoil the books she was trying to sell him on. He liked watching her try to cover it up, all in some elaborate effort to preserve the story she wanted him to read for himself. He liked watching American movies with her, curious about her perspective on the often underlying and hidden themes she always picked up on. They'd just spent the day interacting with the larger, adult animals at the edge of the city, as everyone prepared for the festival. Why was he declining the opportunity to spend more time with her?

Fear, mostly.

Spending time with her alone already took a lot out of him; he couldn't even trust himself to sleep the whole night through without breaking a vase or a window, how could he trust himself to be in her home?

Eating a meal or watching a movie and then leaving was a different scenario; but sitting beside her into the night? Fall asleep in her home, as she slept mere feet away?

He didn't want to hurt her, regardless of whether it was due to his nightmare-caused fevor or not, didn't want to ruin the trust she'd already placed in him, but god did he want to stay with his friend.

His friend. What a joke.

"You are finally going to stay, with me?" Uxolo asked, and the smile that rose when she realized the affirmative was unbeatable.

" 'm staying." Bucky confirmed. He tried not to make a big deal out of it, tried not to look at that smile for too long.

"You are staying." She repeated, not skipping a beat, not giving him the chance to second-guess himself and this already terrible decision. "Grab a seat before you make me miss the introduction."

Uxolo tried to hide her smile by tossing a popcorn kernel into her mouth, but Bucky was so focused on her lips that there'd never be a chance for him to miss it.

****

It was awkward, Bucky was sure of that.

It'd been so long since he'd done... any of this: the sarcastic humor that came with friendship, the ability to simply exist beside each other in silence, watching the television and making simple conversation above it. It was awkward, because Bucky didn't know the timing of when it was appropriate to talk and when it wasn't; Bucky didn't know how close to sit beside her, or if sitting on the opposite side of the couch would send some mean message.

It was awkward, because Bucky was making it so. If he took a second to get out of his head, to turn to Uxolo and truly look at her, he'd see that she was overwhelmed with such joy, such happiness, at simply being able to interact with him in this way. If he took a second to look at her, he'd see that she was looking at him the same way something inside of him yearned to look at her.

Instead his gaze was focused on her television, on the graphics and frames passing by to dictate the movie they'd been watching.

Uxolo said, after a moment, "This is... not a good movie."

Bucky nodded.

The movie was far beyond not good, it was terrible. The plot was basic, just breaching the realm of acceptable sequence of movie events, Bucky could give it that.

But the actors. God, Bucky and his deadpan expressions could do a better job at playing these characters. I mean, was it necessary for a grocery store clerk to burst into empathetic tears after hearing about the protagonist's failed job interview? Who had approved that? Or who had let the actor get away with that?

Uxolo clicked the movie off, deleted it from her storage, and began to flick through the rest of her selection.

Bucky felt a gruff sound form in his chest at that, something that was supposed to resemble laughter, he was sure, but he was so out of practice. He twisted to her — to say something, to recommend something, to say he wouldn't mind any selection — but his hand was reaching up before he could even realize it, to swat something, to block it, no- to catch it.

Bucky twisted his palm around to take a peek inside, seeing a semi-crushed popcorn kernel within. He glanced up at Uxolo, slowly, because there surely wasn't someone hiding up in the wooden shafts of her roof throwing popcorn down at him.

He found her looking back at him, smiling such a youthful smile he was sure he'd traveled to the past, another popcorn kernel in hand.

"Shall we just do this, instead?"