20. New Year's Eve

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Things are awkwardly normal, that is the best way to describe what's going on with Bucky and me now. We both played off the kiss as though it never happened. I wondered if he forgot it and really brushed it off. I didn't.

To this day, I still can't get the image out of my head. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

On another note, our nightmares seem to still affect each other. It's almost like we're the parent of each other: we check in on the other when we hear something's going wrong. But one thing's changed: Bucky exiled himself back to the couch after the kiss. I didn't blame him one bit for that.

Christmas had gone pretty nicely, but awkwardly. It wasn't the same when you weren't around family for the holidays. We tried to make the best of it, but my mind went to my parents. How they weren't celebrating with their daughters. How they had to spend their holiday hiding from Hydra. Still, Bucky and I got through it. We didn't get our present of a rendezvous point yet, so we had to hope for it in the New Year.

Fast forward one week, and now it's New Year's Eve. I already know what's going to happen: we'll confine ourselves to the cottage, have a nice night in. That's all I really want right now; I don't think I could handle being out around people, waiting for the ball to drop.

Snow is falling outside in blankets. We're definitely not going anywhere. You've got to be crazy to leave your house at this point. Still, there are some said insane people who don't mind driving in the snow. I guess they're the risk takers, putting their life, others' lives, and their car's life in their hands.

We've kept the TV on since noon, changing channels just so we don't get bored. But even watching TV becomes boring. I look out the window, considering bundling up and taking a walk through the snow. It could be worth it, enduring the cold, even if it's for a short time.

Bucky's sprawled out on the couch when I go to dig for layers to pile on me. By the time I'm heading for the door, he's passed out. A smile twitches on my face. I make sure to keep the cold from disturbing him once I get the door open.

I make sure to not wear my glasses outside, because I don't want snow covering them. The cold air runs right through me. I shudder, hoping to try and heat up. I take slow steps across the snow, leaving prints behind.

My mind goes to what Vanessa once told me about our family, how we loved to run out in the snow, go sledding and such. I can almost hear our high-pitched laughter, see our little girl selves running and falling in the snow, trying to smack each other in the face with the cold stuff. I wonder where Jessabelle fit into that picture.

I understand why Vanessa never mentioned her: she wanted to keep Hydra away from me as much as possible. It was unavoidable, I think solemnly. Once it's part of your past, you really can't avoid it. I picture two blonde-haired little girls chasing each other, and maybe a brunette girl just admiring the snowflakes. I wonder if Jessabelle's hair is naturally brown or she dyed it. If she did dye it, when?

Snowflakes stick to my lashes, completely blanket the car. I'm a dragon with the way puffs of air come out of my nose and mouth. I admire the dusted trees of the woods, look around to see if I can maybe spot a deer or two.

"Are you trying to get sick?"

I turn slightly to see Bucky trudging his way out to join me. A small wind picks up, almost numbing my face instantly, fingering my hair. "I thought you were asleep?" I ask.

"I just closed my eyes."

"No, you were asleep," I press. "Do you not like being alone in the house or something?"

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