Eyes of Fire | Bucky Barnes

42

The only thing Uxolo had planned for them was to walk around for a bit, see some of the decorations, and then find a place to sit and enjoy the changing environment. While there was nothing especially amazing to see, the equinox always casted beautiful colors across the sky during the day.

They walked together past the animal sections — with the large fences posted and equally large animals roaming about— and the marketplace, with beautiful trinkets hanging from each booth, representing what product each farmer sold.

The pair made idle conversation along the way, Bucky providing commentary about his first impression on some of the decorations, and Uxolo telling stories of her past festival experiences.

He had to admit to himself that he was feeling incredibly ridiculous.

He was a killer, a murderer, someone who ruined families and spread grief everywhere he went. And yet here he was, enjoying a festival, of all things, thrown by the people who kept providing for him out of their own kindness, holding the hand of the most amazing woman he'd ever known.

Bucky had initially tried to avoid participating in the slightest, giving half-assed excuses about being tired, or uninterested, or simply unwilling. Uxolo had tried to entice him with talk of how everyone was excited to see him, citing the families he'd helped so long ago who wanted to repay his kindness, and the children who told fantastical tales of the white wolf who lived along the main city's edge and could lift an entire house.

None of it had worked. So, she had let him mope for no longer than 5 minutes before she was expertly drawing the truth out of him, untying the ropes bit by bit until the words were spilling in droves, as if they couldn't leave his mouth fast enough.

He'd been.... scared. Frustrated. Shriveled and weighed down with guilt. He still was, if he was being completely honest.

How on earth did he, a renowned assassin who had more names on his ledger than he could count, end up here? Beside a woman who could quell his worries and concerns with a single touch, who managed to unravel him and help him through things he couldn't have imagined surviving a year ago? Why did he deserve it, this?

The answer was as obvious as it was hurtful: he didn't. And the push and pull between knowing he didn't deserve it, knowing no way karma and all its connections to the universe would allow this to last but nonetheless desperately wanting it to, was exhausting. It was worrying. It... hurt.

But still, she was stood beside him, holding his hand, staring up at the changing sky with the brightest eyes he'd ever seen. She was close.

Too close, way closer than he'd let anyone get in decades. And despite the guilt that burdened him with every closing inch between them, the joy overwhelmed it tenfold.

The joy was quiet, mumbling in his ears, a pleasant change from the traumatic silence he'd once heard. If he listened closely, it was her laughter, that soft Uxolo chuckle that made him... happy.

Happy.

****

"Even back in Brooklyn, I never understood the point of these carnival things," Bucky grumbled as he and Uxolo weaved through the crowd.

Granted, back when he was actually actively going to carnivals and festivals, the Ferris wheel had only been invented like 30 years prior. Not a lot to do when all of the ladies were staring up at all of the contraptions as if they were going to spontaneously burst into flames.

Uxolo laughed and looped her arm through his, and despite his general opinion on this activity, he pulled her closer until she was nestled against his side as they walked.