bucky lifts himself up on his elbows, looking at me with confusion at my sudden interest in the most devastating times in history. the air blows on my shoulders, making me pull the blankets over my bare body. bucky repostions himself against the headboard, looking down at me before beginning to speak.
"are you sure you want to talk about that?" he asks.
"only if you're comfortable with it." my hand reaches up and carreses his face. he smiles down at me, his eyes filled with love.
after a moment he breaks eye contact, letting free a sigh. "i dont know where to begin."
"take your time." i stroke his flesh arm, my digits studying and memorizing every perfect imperfection of his war torn skin. every designated scar had its own story to tell.
"i remember us arriving to the fronts. we sailed past the stone breakwater, waves beating against it then back out into the dark blue medditeranian. almost out of sight, graceful cruisers and wicked destroyers raced on our perimeter to protect us. just at dusk, a whole squadron of viscious little pt boats crossed our bow, their engines roaring in one giant combination like a force of heavy bombers. we moved on into the enveloping night that might have a morning for us. or might not..."
assuming he has more to say, i remain silent. his hand slithers into the blankets, skimming across my bare back, rubbing softly.
"the earth was torn and blasted, along with a greasy shine under the suns rays. it was the background of the restless, gloomy world of automatons, our gasping was the scratching of the quill, our lips were dry, our heads were debauched with stupor. yet we staggered forward and into our pierced and shattered souls bored the image of convulsed and dead soldiers."
his decriptive memory of war shocks me, not realizing how horrendous the realities of war actually were.
"bullets were flying everywhere as the sound of firing and explosions rang through the battlefield. the soldiers in the front line dropped dead one after another, like trees being uprooted in a massive tornado. everything seemed to happen in slow motion. i licked the blood off my mouth and surged foward with my remaining strength, pulled the trigger of the grenade and flung it hard at the enemy."
"wow." my eyes examine the scars on his torso, trailing my fingers across his abs as i make my way around.
"then when steve rescued us from hydra, he was... bigger, different. i told him not to do anything stupid until i got back from the war but he decided it was smart to let a german scientist experiment on him, willingly." he laughs, shaking his head. "he's still a punk."
"yeah.. he is." i giggle.
"i have a few pictures in storage that i could show you, if you'd like?" he questions while raking my hair out of my eyes, delicately.
"i'd like that."
he lifts the covers and crawls out, putting on his boxers before standing up and walking out of the bedroom. soon he returns with a small box, labeled with memories.
i sit up in the bed, covering my chest with a corner of the silk bedding. bucky takes a seat beside of me, opening his box. he smiles instantly at the first photograph.
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his finger tips slide across the glossy photograph. "we were so young here."
"look at you all dressed up and handsome, pretty boy." i tease, causing him to blush profusely. my eyes scan over the image while smiling at the two dorks.
"this one was when i first met peggy." he grins. "that same day i realized that i was turning into steve when she ignored my offer to go dancing."
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i laugh before responding. "she was such a beautiful, empowering woman. and she always will be." he hums in response before grabbing the next image.
"this was after steve rescued all those men, including myself. we established the most optimal team that day."
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"of what i've heard from you and steve, they seemed like marvelous men." i tell him, admiring the picture a final time before he puts it back in the box, pulling out another.
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his voice cracks while speaking the next couple of words, his crystal eyes shining like he had just found a piece of treasure.
