She Will Be Loved

Chapter Three: 70 Years of Tears

Around 7:30, I knocked on Bucky's door. He answered it, wearing a pair of loose dark wash jeans and a black tank top. His hair pulled up into a ponytail.

"(Y/n)?" He said rather shocked. His cheeks flushed.

"Uh, yea. Hi, I wanted to talk to you,"

"Um, yeah. By all means, come in," he said opening the door to let me in.

I'd never seen his room in the light. It's nice, surprisingly neat. He sits at the foot of his bed.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" He asked.

"Steve mentioned that something is bothering you. He asked me to see if you wanted to talk about it,"

"You already know what's troubling me (Y/n),"

I looked into his eyes. The same eyes I saw early this morning.

"The nightmare?" I whispered approaching him. I lowered myself onto the floor, and looked up at him. "Do you ever talk about them with anyone?"

"No,"

"Why is that?"

"I don't know,"

"Why don't you tell me about them? Why do they bother you?" I ask gently placing a hand on his knee. He takes a deep breath, and slides down from the bed to sit next to me.

"If you are just doing this for Steve,"

"No, I'm not doing this for Steve. Or me. I'm doing this for you," He eyes me, to see if I'm telling the truth.

And so he begins. He tells me everything. At times, I find myself, pressing my hands to my mouth, and tears streaking down my cheeks. He does not cry, but I can tell he'd like to.

He stops. He bites his lip, and bows his head. I reach up to him, and cup his cheeks in my hands. He looks up quickly,

"It's okay, " I whispered as the first few tears trickles down his face. "Sshhh, shhh it's okay. It's okay. You're okay,"

I pull him into my arms and let him cry into my blouse. His arms vice around my hips. He lets all the tears he has held back for all these years out.

"Some times you've been strong for everyone too long, it's okay to set down that burden,"

This goes on for some time. And I let it go on. It's Friday night, I have no where to be but here. Until, I feel it. A warm pressure at the base of my neck. And again an inch away from the last. Again and again, traveling up my neck.

I leaned my head to the side, his hand ran up my neck and cradled the back of my head. Before I knew it, his lips were gently pressed on mine.

He suddenly drew back, I opened my eyes.

"I'm sorry," he backed away from me. "I'm sorry, I didn't... I mean..."

I closed the space between us, pressing my lips to his. Seeing that I was not upset by his advances, he deepened the kiss, holding me close but gently as if I might fall apart.

Breaking the kiss to lean my forehead on his, he asked in a husky voice "How long?"

"Sense the day we met," I whispered back. "You?"

"That first time you came to help me," he said pushing a few pieces of hair away from my face.

I smiled at the memory.

"I thought to myself as you left that night, Why on Earth would you have helped a monster like me?" He laughed under his breath. "But I've got a pretty good idea now,"