December // A Winter Soldier Story

9

ｄｅｃｅｍｂｅｒ ２０ｔｈ， ２０１３

２１°

𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓈ℴ𝓁𝒹𝒾ℯ𝓇

He wakes up to the sun in his eyes.

The sun. Why is the sun coming in to his cell? There are no windows here. He's never woken up to the sun streaming into a room, at least not that he can ever remember.

He opens his eyes to find out what is going on, but he becomes even more confused by what he sees once his eyes are open. He sees a white ceiling, a room full of light and warmth. There are no sounds of heavy metal moving, no sounds of screaming, no voice yelling orders from down the hall. Instead, he hears a noise so foreign, that he has to take a second to recognize it: birds, chirping just outside.

He sits up quickly, his heart racing. This must be a trap. Or maybe it's a dream, he can't be sure. He looks around to try and figure out which it is.

He is on the floor, a grey blanket resting over him. The large windows just off to his left show the snowy woods that he has become accustomed to walking through each day. To his right is a kitchen, where he notices a girl standing with her back to him, humming a song as she cooks something. This perplexes him far more than his other surroundings. There is no way she is real.

Her hair is blonde and long and looks soft. She moves her body so it matches with the beat of the song, and her voice is sweet and low, making his breath catch in his throat. When was the last time he'd heard someone sing?

She reaches to the side to grab something off of the counter, and he sees the side of her face. Her skin is light and clear with a sharp jawline.

She is the girl that's been haunting him ever since he saved her in the woods.

The soldier swallows as he watches her. He figures this must be her home. The details of how he got here are fuzzy, but he vaguely remembers stumbling here after taking out a target, if that was even real at all. If he remembers correctly, he had been seriously injured in all of that.

He looks down at his body to see if this is true, and catches sight of something under the pants he is wearing. He pulls the pant leg up, and finds a white bandage on his leg. Perhaps all of this did actually happen. The spot on his thigh must've been where he'd been shot. He lifts the bandage up, seeing an angry red line of clumped skin held together with stitches. Had the girl been the one to put him back together? He puts the bandage back, his mind racing.

A smell suddenly fills the air. It is unlike anything he's ever smelled before. He does not cower at the scent, because it is not the sharp scent of blood or sweat he smells, nor is it the choking scent of smoke from gunfire. It is instead the smell of a home cooked meal. His stomach reacts before his mind does, growling desperately. He can't remember the last time he ate, but he is suddenly in dire need of both food and water.

The soldier doesn't wish to end this moment, however. Things are quiet and peaceful in here. Her humming is soothing. A candle flickers in the corner, and when he turns his head, he sees that there is a fire blazing in the fireplace in front of the couch. He feels warm. He feels safe. This has to be a dream, he finally decides, because there's no possibility that this is happening to him.

He is disappointed that it is only a dream, but he decides to make the most of it, and spend this time watching the beautiful girl. She is wearing a sweater and slim black pants that compliment her figure as she twirls around the kitchen, and she is moving more now that the song she's listening to has changed to one that is faster. She is in her own world, and is so heartbreakingly real that the soldier cannot help but want to rush over to her and scoop her up in his arms so he can keep her safe forever.