You were his wife in the 40's through thick and thin, sickness and health, richer or poorer, and through all of the twists of life. Even 70 years later you continued to love him, and stay by his side.
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5 Years Later.
Brooklyn, New York.
Afresh blanket of snow covered the arrangement of brownstones. The rusted, red brick homes snugly wrapped up in frosted white as icicles hung from the eaves like little toy soldiers lined up in a row.
Wreaths made of pine and holly adorned many a houses door as Christmas lights twinkled beneath the ashen gray clouds. The multicolored aglow decorations shedding their prismatic incandescence across the sheets of ice.
And, outside children were already getting a head-start on enjoying the merriment of the first snowfall.
Swathed in boots, jackets, hats and scarves the young-ins played in the powdery white banks, making Snow People and Snow Angels. Their laughter ringing out along the glittered silver city-scape.
But, beyond their childish laughter and amongst the neighborhoods of Brooklyn a husband and wife were just waking up.
Within just one of the many assemblages of brick built town-homes was one in particular and once past the frost covered windowpanes a peaceful morning was beginning again.
And, while the snow continued to fall and while wrapped up in plush, warm blankets I opened up my eyes. The sound of Bucky's electric razor arousing me from my slumber. With him standing in front of the mirror in the a-joining bathroom he trimmed his beard.
Looking over I just watched as he combed through his now shorter brunette tresses, taming a few pieces with hair gel and for a minute I just wanted to take in every last detail.
Any little gesture, personal quirk and habit like gold to me, treasures that I for so many years had recited to memory, but that now had the fortune of seeing every day again.
Time itself now a gift. A reminder that I had survived the hard times, fought as fiercely as I could and lived long enough to finally be given what I had craved for so long; peace.
But, more importantly, the man I loved had been given peace as well. The War was over and finally he could rest. Bucky was now a husband and a father, what he had always wanted to be. Not a soldier, not a tool for HYDRA. He was free. We were free.
Forcing myself up out of bed I slipped on a robe and made my way into the bathroom.
And, gently I hugged him from behind. My lips tracing the jagged scar where his toned flesh met the metal of his Wakandan prosthetic.
"Morning, gorgeous." Bucky greeted, turning around to face me.
"Morning, handsome," I replied, staring into his familiar slate blue pools. "You know, I don't think you've ever looked more attractive than you do right now."
"You've been saying that every morning, Doll." Bucky chided, securely wrapping his arms around me, both metal and flesh digits lightly drawing circles over my hips as he pulled me close.
