Fading Through Memories

32

Two weeks later.

"Rise and shine, sleepy head!" Bucky sing-songs.

You let out a frustrated growl, burying yourself under the covers at the sound of his cheery, ready-for-the-day voice.

Bruce recommended 2 weeks of rest from training and any forcing movements so that your body could fully recover from the trauma and your wounds and scars have time to fully heal. In these time, you have been getting much better about the rape thing. Bruce also recommended that you to go to therapy for at least 1 day per week or find someone you feel safe to talk to about it. You chose Natasha because unlike Wanda, she doesn't burst into tears every time you open your mouth.

On the other hand, Bucky should win an award for the best boyfriend in the fucking universe with how respectful and patient he has been with you and this subject. There isn't a day when he doesn't ask you how you feel, where he can touch or if you feel comfortable with this and that, besides helping you patiently take care of your wounds.

Memories of a few days ago in the bathroom make your body feel tingly and your skin hot and sweaty.

"Come on, love, you have to wake up." Bucky chuckles.

The sound of the curtains being opened by Bucky makes you groan again and earn another soft laugh from him. Feeling the bright light hit your eyes through the fabric of the thin sheets making you close them shut even tighter.

"Just 5 more minutes. That's all I'm asking!" You whine, burying yourself deeper under the sheets.

You hear him laugh again followed by slow, soft footsteps approaching you. The weight of his body sinking into the corner of your bed before his hands completely steal the blanket, uncovering you from head to toe.

"Bucky!" You gasp when the cold air hits your warm skin, curling up in your own body.

A warm, gentle hand cups your puffy with sleep cheek, thumb moving back and forth across your rosy skin. Your eyes immediately open, finding the blue of the clear sky looking down at you with one of those smiles that makes you want to get down on one knee and propose to him at once.

Bucky is wearing one of those white tank tops that show both the definition of his flesh arm and the silver and beauty of his metal arm.  His dog tags resting outside of it, letting you read what it says. Gray sweatpants making it hard to keep your eyes up before noticing his damp hair dripping with water.

A small smile forms on your lips as you notice the almost invisible freckles that adorn his nose and cheekbones along with those long, dark eyelashes that make you want to kiss his entire face.

"Are you checking me out?" Bucky raises his eyebrow.

Your cheeks turn red, clearing your throat to say, "I was not." Covering your face with the sheet again.

"Don't be a brat, doll." He says between laughs. "You have to get up."

Bucky uncovers you again, leaning down to wrap his hands around your waist and lift you off the bed, pressing you to his body. Your legs straddle his lap instantly before using a bit of your extra strength to push him against the bed. His body trapped under your limbs as he lets out a small chuckle.

"Who are you calling a brat, Sarge?" You ask mimicking his tone.

Bucky bursts into laughter and you too after a few seconds.

"Mornin', beautiful." His hand goes to your waist sending shivers throughout your body when you feel the cold metal on your hot skin, propping up on his elbows to get closer to you.