Eyes of Fire | Bucky Barnes

63

"Follow me." She instructed him, making wider and longer gestures so he was able to pick up on how she manipulated the dough.

He smiled gratefully at her, the creaking of his own face nothing like the satisfying texture of the dough stretching between his fingers.

"What are we making, exactly?" Bucky murmured quietly, unable to properly surmise what the meal was going to be given the ingredients in front of them.

Uxolo leaned up briefly to peer at the bowls of ingredients herself, already knowing that this was going to be some type of dumpling. Her mother only ever made a handful of kinds, the filling the only change, so she had some reasonable expectations. "I would guess madombi."

Her mother raised a dark brow, as thin and wiry as she was. "Dombolo," she answered patiently.

Uxolo's resistance in whining about the small distinction was visible to even him, and Bucky couldn't help but chuckle.

She tore a piece off her own lump of dough, deftly molding it like she'd been doing it since she was a kid. Bucky was caught by the dexterous movements of her fingers as she pressed and stretched it into a flat disc.

At Uxolo's insistence, he reached up to grab a small ball of dough and tried to copy her movements. He fiddled with it for a moment, feeling it to begin to warm and liquify the longer it was in his palm.

He mimicked the way she tossed the dough back and forth between her hands, allowing the ball to cool during the air time before catching it and molding it quickly.

Ubulumko moved speedily onto her second, and soon third ball as he struggled to form his first one. She commented lightly, "ke, uya kundixelela ukuba wadibana njani nale ngcuka imhlophe?" (So, will you tell me how you met this white wolf?)

Uxolo froze, cradling her ball of dough in the center of her palm. "Ingaba wazi kanjani?" (How did you know?)

"Yiza ngoku, ntombazana. Ucinga ukuba iindaba zeendwendwe zihlala zithe cwaka phakathi kwabadala?" (Oh come now, my daughter. How long do you think news of a visitor stays quiet amongst elders?) Her mother raised her eyebrow, head tilted at that delicate angle Uxolo herself often had. "nadibana njani?" (Tell me, how did you meet?)

And so she told her. Everything. Or, as much as was appropriate.

Uxolo relayed all of the ooey-gooey stuff Bucky often pretended didn't happen, ranted about how kind he was and how much goodness he had bottled inside of him.

Bucky stared at her helplessly as she spoke, particles of white flour clinging to his cheek. At one point, she couldn't help but laugh, finally putting down another row of perfect dough-spheres in favor of swiping his face clean with her thumb.

The time went by without them noticing it. Conversation flowed into every nook and cranny like liquid, and the hearty dinner Ubulumko served (clearly too much for herself, though she insisted she would've had the rest as leftovers had she 'dined alone') filled their stomachs, including the dombolo they'd helped made.

In fact, they could easily stay chatting, were it not for Bucky catching sight of the time on an ancient wooden wall-clock in the kitchen, remarking that they'd have to walk back home in the pitch-black night. Ubulumko reluctantly led them back to the front door, giving her daughter a tight hug as Bucky hobbled to get his shoes back on.

"Thank you so much," (Thank you so much). Bucky said after a deep breath, attempting and failing at mustering the smooth-talking charmer he used to be. Nonetheless, "It was wonderful meeting you."

"Oh, kunjalo," (Of course!) She deflected, but he could see the way her eyes crinkled, just like Uxolo's when she was pleased. No wonder the two were so close, they were the like same soul in two bodies.

She pulled Bucky in for an unsuspecting hug, wiry arms still strong around him, melting his heart with her compassion.

"Take care of her," She whispered in her warm, accented voice.

Her eyes were soft when she pulled back, and he gave her his best reassuring smile and nod. Bucky made his way outside as Uxolo gave her mother one last quick hug goodbye, murmuring nonsensically at the air that greeted him. It'd been cold when they got there, and the sun setting had done them no good.

"That was not so bad, was it, Bucky?" He heard  Uxolo say as the front door closed behind her. She laughed to herself, tucking her arms over her chest with a shiver, glancing up and down the street for any approaching vehicles.

Bucky let a heavy sigh rack through his body once they were far enough from the door. "No. No, it wasn't."

He frowned as she shivered again. He took his jacket, folded over his elbow until now, and gently wrapped her in it, layering it on top of her own coat.

Uxolo followed him with her eyes as he stepped out from behind her, reaching out to lace their fingers back together. Bucky let her, if only to tug her closer and share some of his neverending warmth.

"Don't look at me like that," He chastised, but there was no bite to it, almost like a plea.

"Are you ready to go home?" She asked lowly through a fond smile. She waited for his dazed nod before her thumb found the centre of his chin, holding him steady as she rose on her toes, joining their lips together in a sweet kiss.

It was all he could do to try and kiss back, hands fisting in the cloth surrounding her hips to hold her close. He felt so precious, so vulnerable as she slanted her mouth on her with such reverence that his head began to spin.

His pulse throbbed in his neck, his fingertips, heart hammering as her lips moved on his, slowly and thoughtfully.

Bucky struggled to pull away from her, the action requiring more conscious energy than it probably should've. He could suffocate with her lips on his and he'd die happily.

Still, he hovered above her mouth, lips grazing as he mumbled:

"Home."