Steve's Diary

August 1, 1935

Dear Diary,

My black eye has gotten a whole lot better, thanks for asking. It's a little yellow still, and it hurts a bit but it's definitely better.

Either way, getting into that fight wasn't such a great idea after all... now Bucky won't leave me alone with all this self defense stuff.

Apparently we're gonna train until I can fend for myself...

—————

"No, no, no, Steve that's not how you punch," he said, stopping my hand mid air with his.

I looked up at him with confused eyes and asked: "oh, well how do you, then?"

"Like this," he held out a fist and I examined his hand. Then, as I was obviously still lost, he took me by the wrist and moved my fingers into the correct positions. "See?" He asked, holding my closed fist before him.

"Ohhhh..." I chuckled, "yea, that makes sense."

"Good. Now, lemme wrap your hands," he added.

"What for?"

"Steve. You weigh like, ninety pounds. I don't want you to break your hand... that would suck," he mentioned plainly.

"Fair enough," I caved, trying to hide my smile. He walked over to the other room and came back with a roll of white fabric. "You're gonna use that? What even is that?"

He laughed, "Steve it's hand wrap. Just gimme your hand." In saying that, I noticed now for the first time how often he said my name in normal conversations. It's not weird it's just that I've never noticed that before.

He held my hand delicately and started at my wrist and moved up to my palm and around my thumb. He had callouses on his fingers that, when they moved across my skin, almost felt like little tickles.

I smiled at his gentleness. He really did want to help me out here. I wish he knew what this all meant to me.

I watched him work, focusing solely on my hand. His tongue poked out between his lips and his eyes narrowed... I listened to the short breaths he took.

After noticing how close he was standing I shifted almost uncomfortably. I wasn't really used to that whole situation yet. However, every tiny inch back I moved, every step closer to the wall I got, he followed me. He mirrored my movements accurately and as precisely as humanly possible. The wall was getting increasingly closer so I stopped in my tracks and he, being focused on my other hand now, didn't notice and bumped right into the front of me.

He looked up from his simple task with his mouth merely hanging open and locked his eyes on mine. His arms were bent as much as they possibly could and my hand was pressed against his chest half wrapped. My legs were positioned between his and I could feel every inch of us touching.

I looked down then away altogether. After a moment that felt like a million years, he backed away and finished wrapping my hand.

"All done," he stated cheerily. I could see his little dimples pop up on his cheeks even, so I knew he wasn't all that phased by my looking away before.

"Great... now what?" I asked, lost.

"Now I teach you how to fight. Put your hands up... no like this... no Steve..." he tried instructing me verbally but I wasn't catching on all that well. His next resort was to take my fists and put hem into their right places manually. "See? Like that."