Say You Do

Thunderstorms

That night was a bit tense to say the least; after dinner was served and everyone was dishing up, Zarah had grabbed her plate of food and angrily marched outside as she plopped herself down on the porch swing.

Bucky, Steve, and Isabella all ate in silence around the table. Only the noise of their forks on the plates filled the large space as everyone got lost within their thoughts.

Bucky's thoughts continued to bounce back to Zarah, no matter how hard he tried to think of anything else. He would begin to think about his mom and then his thoughts were on Zarah and if his mom would like her at all. His dad would, he knew his dad would. Her love for cars, new and classic, would steal his dad's heart in an instant.

The patio door slammed shut as Zarah walked in, shaking Bucky out of his thoughts as he quickly glanced in her direction. He watched as she dropped her paper plate in the trash before making her way to the table; Bucky's heart began to pick up as he tried to keep his eyes on the paper plate, taking in the defaulted pattern of the plate.

"Thank you Stevie for dinner," she grumbled as she gave him a quick hug. Kissing Isabella on the top of the head, Bucky heard her heavy and tired footsteps make their way upstairs, before a door slammed shut and Bucky finally picked his head up.

"Is she-?"

"Always like this? No. With the heat, she's just tired." Steve informed as he shoved the last of his burger into his mouth. Isabella nodded in confirmation as she too stood up and offered to take Bucky's empty plate.

After dinner, the house fell into a peaceful quiet; Steve and Isabella went to bed early, and Bucky assumed Zarah was asleep as well. With nothing else to do, and not wanting to upset Zarah, Bucky went into the guest room and pulled his phone out to try and pass the time.

Which was what happend; he had unknowingly fallen asleep, and around five in the morning was woken up by the front door closing. His heart was racing as he tried to gather his bearings and figure out where he was.

Right, Minnesota, Steve's wedding.

Rubbing his eyes to try and rid them of sleep, Bucky stood up and stretched, sighing in relief as he felt his back crack. Confused, Bucky threw a shirt on and walked out of the guest room to see that the front door was wide open. Panicking, he began to make his way to Steve and Isabella's room before realizing that he was in rural  Minnesota and that he was safe.

Making his way down the hallway, he walked into the darkened living room and relished in the quiet that flooded the large home. It was peaceful as he walked outside and a new scent floated its way to his nose, it was sweet and refreshing, almost like a sweet drink on a hot day. Walking down the porch steps, he saw that the garage lights were on.

Making his way through the grass, getting his jeans soaked in the early morning dew. As he neared the large red building, he saw that side door was cracked open, and music floated through as the scent of coffee mixed with the dew. Pushing the metal door out of the way, he snuck in and was met with the same sight as yesterday; Zarah was leaned over into the empty engine compartment of a black 1967 Impala. The overhead lights bouncing off its sleek siding.

Music bounced around the four walls, not as loud as yesterday, but just loud enough to almost drown out any thoughts or actions that might wake someone. Leaning against the wall next to the door, his eyes explored the large room and he was impressed with the setup. She had hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars worth of tools and a few engine hoists; which he noticed the engine for the Impala was sitting in.

"She a V-6 or V-8?" Bucky finally spoke up, his voice deep and scratchy as it was still riddled with sleep. Zarah gasped a she stood up and spun around, her eyes riddled with irritation and tiredness as she rested her oil slicked hands on her hips. Her irritation quickly melted away as a ghost of a smile spread across her pink lips.