Haven [Marvel | Bucky Barnes]

Chapter 4

It had quickly become rather a routine; every couple days she would bring him something from the restaurant, sacrificing her free meal to make sure he got something not straight out of a can or a flimsy plastic tray. Even the odd time that he hadn't been home, having disappeared for a few days or so, she'd brought him something, either waiting until she thought he'd come back or simply leaving it outside the door for him. She hadn't even meant to do it and Iris certainly hadn't intended for it to become a routine. But still, something in her compelled her to offer. She felt the need to help this man, James, and the only way she knew how just now was with food.

She also felt the need to simply see him. She certainly hadn't realized that was the case at first. She'd only realized it on one of her days off a couple weeks after that first dinner delivery, when she found herself wondering if it'd be too weird to bring him something she'd made herself. She'd shaken her head something fierce as that particular insight hit her, scolding herself soundly as she tried to dismiss the idea. It was ridiculous. She barely knew the man. He barely said more than ten words to her each time she brought him food and most of them were along the lines of 'thanks.'

But that didn't seem to stop the way she was becoming more and more drawn to him as the weeks passed. Attached, even. She was growing to look forward to the involuntary little tug at the corner of his mouth that made her think he was near smiling, or the surprised look in his eyes every time he opened the door to see her bringing him food. A little part of her heart always broke at the reminder that life had to have been hard for him indeed for such a small kindness to surprise him. But the growing gratitude in his characteristically guarded expression gave her all sorts of warm fuzzies.

And that wasn't even counting the way her heart had virtually stuttered when she realized the last time she'd brought him dinner he'd looked pleased to see her. He was slowly beginning to open up for her. She'd gotten two more real smiles since that first one and she found herself treasuring each one like it was a gift. And the time before last he'd asked with something close to a mischievous twinkle in his steel-blue eyes if there was any chance she'd brought him a burger. She'd been so stunned he'd actually started to look worried that he'd overstepped on her kindness and had begun stumbling through an apology before she started giggling.

The next time she'd brought him a burger.

He'd actually laughed.

It had been a small, hoarse sound, like he hadn't laughed in a very long time, but it had set a jumble of butterflies loose in her belly that hadn't quite managed to settle since.

Today it was pizza. She'd had a craving for pizza and, upon stopping for her own pie, she'd spontaneously picked up a second. Usually she only got a single pizza and that would serve as a couple meals for her, so the impulse to grab the second took her a little by surprise. At least until she caught herself heading back down toward James' door with the second one, all the while considering how even if he didn't finish off the whole thing in one go—which was not out of the realm of possibility given what she knew of the appetites of men with the body-type and level of muscle mass he had—it would leave him with a second meal, or at least a snack; she was nothing if not practical that way.

As soon as he opened the door the corner of his lip was tugging and the wary tightness around his eyes eased. With a smirk she held out the pizza box, nearly giggling at the way his eyes first widened with surprise and then crinkled with amusement as he reached out for the box. As he cracked open the box he shot her a mischievous glance.

"Pepperoni?" She scoffed at the questioning tone.

"Of course. Is there anything better than the classic?" A faint, breathy chuckle escaped him as he looked back down at the pizza, a nostalgic glimmer in his gaze.