Do You Trust Me? // Bucky Barnes

25

Bucky

Ava was staring at him with wide, red-rimmed eyes and tear soaked cheeks. The rivered tracks of her sadness had stained the rosy flush of her face with pale, shimmering lines and droplets had fallen to her t-shirt, staining the fabric with her pain.

His heart hammered as he took her in.

"Do you trust me?" He almost whispered the words, afraid of the response that would slip from the lips he now knew were soft and gentle and so damn kissable.

She nodded just the tiniest amount as he stood there, leaning against the door frame, and he wanted to wrap his arms around her. But he did not move.

"Use your words, дорогой." His voice was gruff, even to his own ears, but a small smile blossomed across her face as her eyes dropped to the tissue balled and torn in her hands as she breathed her reply.

"Yes, James. I trust you."

His heart was soaring. It was singing and crying out and soaring as he watched her blush and avoid his eyes. It was dreaming as he stepped closer and placed his fingers beneath her chin - flesh against flesh - and held his own breath for a moment. It was racing when he tipped her face up and stared into her eyes. And it settled when her hand, previously locked in her lap, came up to rest against his arm and her thumb brushed back and forth absentmindedly.

"Then follow me," he said.

***

Ava

The dirt road had lead to a slightly less make-shift road, edged by trees that seemed to loom taller than the buildings of New York City on one side, and vast open spaces on the other. Ava stared out of the window, drinking in the views, as the truck Bucky had borrowed trundled along with a whir and a groan at every bump in the road.

The man beside her was quiet - focused on the road - as he drove and occasionally she found herself turning to face him. She devoured the dark stubble that lined a strong, sharp jaw, and the way his hair, slightly too long now, seemed ruffled in the small breeze pushing in through the slightly open window. She studied the push and pull of muscles, subtle but strong, beneath the dark blue pullover he wore, as he gripped the wheel and studied the road. She sighed as her eyes drank in the smallest uptick of his lips, the tell-tale sign of a James 'Bucky' Barnes smile that he was holding back, and she blushed furiously when he glanced her way.

"You staring at me, Princess?" His smirk was quickly exploding into a heart-stopping smile and Ava could not look away.

"A little," she admitted sheepishly.

She watched as his hand moved from the wheel, his other taking its place, and he rest it lightly against her thigh, brushing his thumb over the exposed skin.

"This okay?" He squeezed gently and Ava's heart stuttered in response.

"Oh." She could not look away from where his thumb grazed lightly against her and how his fingers splayed perfectly across her. It was like even here, even just his hand on her thigh, this was right. She fit. He held her easily. Her mind was racing in circles with the idea that, perhaps, in his hands was where she belonged. "Yes. I - erm - yeah. I like it."

"You do, huh?" His eyebrow quirked as he grinned and Ava tried to remind herself that falling any further for this man was a dangerous game. Hurting him was off the table. She could no more harm a hair on his head than she could Peter Parker, and that was dangerous, because that made him precious to her and she knew she always lost those she loved the most. "Me too."

"Bucky," she started, a slight quiver beneath her voice, and Bucky shook his head.

"You have nothing to worry about." He flicked the turn-signal on as a small building appeared to the left and Ava shuffled closer to his side. His fingers squeezed slightly in comfort.