Eyes of Fire | Bucky Barnes

38

The room was mostly dark, with just the flickering light of the screen flashing across their faces. The quiet chatter of the characters mixed with the occasional exhale was... nice. Comforting. Uxolo yawned.

Someone was petting her hair, and it was nice. She knew how complicated petting someone with her hair type could be, unable to run fingers through all of the way to the end without getting tangled or snagged, especially since she hadn't been able to care for it as usual today.

Still, their fingers rubbed back and forth, nails grazing gently across her scalp. It sent warm shivers down her spine, had goosebumps rising on her skin. She was laying against a chest, could feel their breathing grow faster as she gained more consciousness.

"Uxolo?" Bucky's concerned voice sounded far away and inside of her head at the same time.

He knotted his fingers tenderly in her hair and tilted her face up to look at him. Gentle. Careful, as if he thought she was made of glass.

"Hey, gorgeous," He murmured as her eyes fluttered open, "You alright?"

Oh. Right. They'd taken it upon themselves to have a movie night. Whatever they were watching had ended, and the television screen had gone black. She straightened up, still groggy, and pulled away.

"Ndiyaxolisa, Bucky," (I'm sorry) She mumbled, her bleary eyes searching for his in the dark.

He watched her fondly. Bucky wasn't used to Uxolo — the mature, gentle, and formal woman he'd grown adjusted to — being this cute. "Don' apologize."

"Ndiza kukha amanzi." (I am going to go to get some water). She croaked out, peeling that fluffy blue throw blanket off of her lap and rising to her feet. She spread the blanket over him, tucked in the edges around his thighs.

She seemed to be running on autopilot, her native tongue slipping from her mouth. Luckily, he'd been able to pick up the necessary words and phrases.

Without a moments hesitation, her fingers found his hair this time and stroked it back away from his face. She ran a thumb across his cheek and Bucky stifled a shudder, stuffed that sound back down his throat where it came from.

He could feel her warmth surrounding him in the form of that blanket, her residual body heat trapped in the fabric. It smelled like her. He took a deep, shaky breath.

Then softly, so softly that he might have imagined it if he wasn't so hyper-aware of her breath on his skin, she pressed her plush lips to his forehead. Held for a second, and then with one last stroke of his hair, she was gone.

Bucky listened to her footsteps down the hall, heard the kitchen floorboards squeak. She traveled the room by feel, too lazy to flip the light switch, her fingertips gliding across the wall until they reached the refrigerator.

Bucky, despite the comfort he'd received from the blanket, followed after her anyway. He was slightly unsteady behind her, sitting and watching as she filled two glasses at the tap built-in to the fridge.

Uxolo placed two full glasses on the island and lowered herself onto the stool next to him. Sipping from her glass sleepily, she watched Bucky. When he didn't show any intention of picking up his drink she nudged it toward him, the quiet scrape against the counter startling him out of his thoughts. He grasped it in his sweaty hand and turned to meet her gaze. It was hard for Bucky to look at ner— her eyes were locked onto him, filled with nothing but affection. She didn't know he didn't deserve it, didn't deserve any of her gentle words or caring gestures, didn't deserve to touch her—

She gave him a soft smile as she took another sip, raising her eyebrows to emphasize the motion of lifting her glass. Bucky got the hint and lifted his glass to his swollen lips. He could taste the copper, realized he had been biting them before she'd woken up.