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Bucky wasn’t much of a talker.
Many thoughts, but little did he speak them.
The music from Stark’s party could be heard from below, the bass vibrating the floor of Bucky’s room. As hard as he tried, it was hard to focus on his book with such a disturbance in his quiet air. Tony had all but begged him to make an appearance, but all Bucky did was give him a flat decline. A densely crowded, loud room filled with people throwing themselves at him and ogling at his arm all night? Not Bucky’s idea of a good time.
It was beginning to become too much for him, causing him to slam his book shut in frustration. Somehow the pop songs in the distance were ringing in his ears, and he knew he had to go someplace quiet. It was just one of those nights, where everything, even the smallest of things, was just too much to handle. Slipping out of bed, Bucky’s socked feet padded across the hardwood floor as he made his way out of the room. His descent down the hallway was quick, as he feared someone had come upstairs from the party and would try to stop him. He took two steps at a time as he went up the stairs. It used to feel like such a long time before he reached the top, but now it felt like only mere seconds passed.
No one used the roof anymore. Not even Tony, who opted to use the balcony for any outdoor experimenting or even when taking flight. Which, to Bucky’s delight, left it open for anyone who had a use for it. Now it was Bucky’s quiet place to go when he needed to breathe. Everyone knew better than to try and bother him when he was on the roof. Even Steve wouldn’t dare to interrupt him.
So when Bucky got to the last landing before the top to find the roof access door open, his body tensed slightly. Did a guest sneak their way up? Or was it a threat? Arms raised in defense, Bucky slowly made his way up the last set of stairs and let himself outside onto the roof.
A figure was leaning into the corner of the concrete barrier that overlooked the city. Bucky’s steps were quiet as he tiptoed across the rooftop towards them. He held his defensive stance until they turned their head in such a way that the moonlight revealed them.
“Nice view, isn’t it.” It was more of a statement than a question.
He watched you jump and whirl around, panic filling your expression until you had a moment to process who was speaking. Almost half a minute had passed before you rolled your eyes, your lips twitching upwards into a smile.
“Fuck you, Bucky,” You said, turning back around and mumbling about having the shit scared out of you. He smirked as he approached, filling the empty space next to you.
You were new, only having joined the team about a week prior. In the most Bucky fashion, he had done a pretty good job at avoiding you. It wasn’t because there was anything wrong with you. From what he knew, he thought you were sweet and funny. Maybe even cute if he allowed himself to admit it. But Bucky was still getting accustomed to being on the team himself, and wasn’t making getting used to new members a priority. But now here you were. In his safe space. Forcing yourself into his world, and more than likely without meaning to.
“Beautiful,” You said, commenting on the sight of the world below. “I’ve never been so high up before.” Bucky inhaled through his nose and caught a whiff of your perfume. It smelled fruity, but he couldn’t quite place which kind. Regardless, he liked it.
“Yeah I come up here when I need some quiet,” He told you. There was no ulterior meaning behind his words, but when he saw the look on your face, he knew you didn’t take it that way.
“Is this your spot?” You asked in a different, quiet voice. A wave of guilt washed over Bucky as he looked at you.
“I mean, I’m the only one who uses it…” He said slowly, making you turn to him while wringing your hands. He opened his mouth to speak again, but you began shooting off before he got the chance.
“I’m sorry,” You said immediately, stepping away from the edge. “I didn’t mean to take your spot. I just got really anxious around all the people downstairs and needed to get some air and I thought it would be quiet up here so I just…” You trailed off when Bucky raised his hand.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” He told you. “I have anxiety too. And I think PTSD, I haven’t seen anyone to confirm that though. It’s calming up here. I get it.” He was shocked with himself for being so candid with you, especially with how he had gone out of his way to avoid you for so long. He spoke again without putting much thought into what he was saying. “You can use it too if you want.” Surprise filled him, but he didn’t show it. You nodded silently, your eyebrows furrowing together in thought. There was something endearing about it to Bucky.
“Maybe we can have a system,” You said, a smile spreading across your cheeks as you looked up at him. “Like putting something on the door handle when one of us is using it. Or leaving the door open. Or something.” Bucky turned so his side was against the barrier, now facing you. The genuinity in your face was making him feel some way that he didn’t understand. You were a stranger, a person he had gone out of his way to not get to know. But now here you were, admitting that you too had struggles and so understanding of his need for privacy. It was rare that people tried to accommodate him. They usually just avoided him when it was clear he wasn’t in a normal mindset. But it was clear now that your caring heart was sewn on your sleeve.
“No,” He said softly, shaking his head. “It’s uh… It’s big enough for the both of us to be out here. If we both need to be.” He didn’t think it possible, but somehow your smile seemed to grow wider. He had to purse his lips to hide the reciprocating smile he wanted to give you. Not that it worked.
“Yeah, I like that,” You said, looking down at the ground for a few seconds before your eyes found him again. “Sometimes just having someone there makes you feel instantly better.” Turning his head, Bucky looked out over the skyline of New York City. He didn’t realize until you said it that he did feel better, and it wasn’t because of the quiet rooftop. Just as he turned back to you, you turned and began walking towards the roof access door. You were halfway there when you stopped and turned back to him.
“I know we don’t really know each other,” You said slowly, an unsure look on your face. “But if you ever need someone to talk to… I’m always here.” Before he had a chance to respond, let alone fully process your words, you gave him a half smile before turning and walking away. He watched your receding back, and pretending he wasn’t taking in the way your hips swung in the dress you were wearing.
People always implied that they’d be there for him, but when the time came, they were generally uncomfortable or unhelpful. But he could tell by the twinkle in your eyes and the tenderness of your voice that you were more honest than any of the others.
As the door clicked closed behind you, a wave of gratefulness fell upon Bucky, and he looked down at the ground, smiling at himself.
~~
Bucky wasn’t much of a morning person.
The sunlight streamed in through the cracks in the blinds onto his closed eyelids. Throwing an arm over his face, he sighed. If he was awake now, there was no going back now. Even if he only got maybe three hours of sleep. He peaked at the digital clock on the wall, reading a quarter past eleven. Dropping his head back against the pillow again, he inhaled through his nose deeply, the scent of fresh coffee filling his lungs. The smell alone was enough to wake him even in the deep catacombs of his soul.
Face scrunched in confusion, he rolled over to find a large mug of fresh coffee on his nightstand with a plate of breakfast next to it. An omelet covered in cheese with hashbrowns, bacon, ham, peppers and onions spilling out of the sides was still steaming, indicating it was freshly made. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, he noticed the door was slightly ajar, but no one was there. His stomach growled, and he hesitated not a minute longer before picking up the plate and shoveling food into his mouth. It was just as delicious as it looked, perfectly seasoned and bursting with flavor. Between bites, he took sips of his coffee, black and strong. Just as he liked it. Before he knew it, the plate was bare and he cursed himself for not having the self control to eat it slower.
He felt full and satisfied as he sauntered down the hallway, empty plate and half full mug in hand. The sound of running water could be heard coming from the kitchen, with the occasional sound of clanging and scraping against metal. When he got to the doorway, he saw you at the sink, washing the dirty plate in your hand. You were wearing an oversized shirt, and he didn’t think anything of it until you walked to the cupboard with a clean plate and reached up to put it away, the shirt riding up to show your subtle, lace trimmed underwear. When you turned around and spotted him, he tensed in embarrassment from staring and fear that he scared you, but all you did was smile.
“Good morning!” You said gently, as you leaned against the kitchen island. “How are you doing today?” Bucky crossed the cold kitchen tiled floor in his bare feet and set the plate in the sink.
“M’okay,” He muttered in a gravelly voice. He took a long sip of his coffee before speaking again. “You make me breakfast?” You turned back to the sink and continued to clean the dishes.
“I didn’t mind,” You said. “I know you were up on the roof most of the night and you probably didn’t sleep well, so I figured you could use a good breakfast.” When he didn’t respond after a while, you turned to see his eyebrows raised and you tilted your head. “It was four in the morning and I tried to go out on the roof, but you were already out there. So I left you alone.” He nodded, looking around the kitchen and biting his lip. “I also noticed you hadn’t really been eating.” His head whipped back in your direction in time to see your concerned face, a slight smile tugging at your lips. “I just… I was worried is all.”
There were no words to explain the feeling in his stomach. No one really noticed him, not in the way you did. Of course he had people. Steve and Sam were his best friends and were always there when needed. Tony and Natasha were great listeners and were always able to talk him down. But that was only when he approached them for help. Until now, no one had noticed that he wasn’t sleeping or properly eating. Hell, even he didn’t notice that he hadn’t really been eating until that moment when you brought it to his attention. And looking back on it, he realized you were right.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” He told you. “I’m fine… Sleeping isn’t a thing I get too much of really ever.” He shrugged. “You get used to it.” Despite the slight smile he gave you, the concern didn’t lift from your face.
“Why don’t you sleep?” You asked him.
It was, unbeknownst to you, a very loaded question. There was no one thing making it so Bucky couldn’t sleep. If one had asked, he wouldn’t be able to tell them when the last time he had a proper night’s sleep was. With the ghosts of his past always in the back of his mind, an aggressive reminder of who he was once, he just figured he was too haunted to know what a peaceful rest felt like.
“There’s too many reasons for me to list,” He said, his voice slightly defeated. “I won’t depress you with the Series Of Unfortunate Events that is my life.” He felt elated at referencing the book series you had been telling him to read for a couple of weeks now, and it grew more when you smiled at him, although after a few seconds had passed, your face faded back into seriousness.
“I won’t push you,” You told him in a soft tone. “You can tell me on your own time.” The relief hit him like a train.
In the month it had been since the night on the rooftop, it had become clear to Bucky that you had sort of adopted him. It was evident by the way you acted towards him. Always checking in throughout the day, asking him questions about what he was up to, making conversation. There were moments when he would catch you up on the roof, and he would sit with you and the two of you would talk. Never once did you interrupt him if he was up there alone, however, and he figured it was just one more thing you did for him that he couldn’t thank you enough for.
“Breakfast was good,” He said, a sorry attempt at thanking you for it. When he opened his mouth to tack it on a proper thanks, you had already waved him off.
“Thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it,” You said before turning back to think sink. “You should go and try to get more sleep.”
He felt something bubbling in the pit of his stomach as he watched you for a few more seconds, debating on whether to speak some more or not. But his mind got the best of him, and he took one last glance before turning and making his way back to his bedroom, a smile on his face the whole walk there.
~~
Bucky wasn’t much of a night person, either.
White knuckles gripped his sheets as he tossed and turned across his mattress. The visions of his past danced through the darkness of his closed eyes, but he couldn’t seem to open them. He could hear Pierce in his ear, giving him new targets and sending him on another murder mission. The only time Bucky could remember what he did as the Fist of HYDRA was in his nightmares.
In this one, he was recalling when he was sent to blow up a target’s home and ended up accidentally taking out his family as well as him. They weren’t supposed to be home. None of them were. Blowing up the house was supposed to be warning. They were supposed to be on vacation, but came home a week early. He wanted to stop it, to save them. But he couldn’t. He was trapped in the prison of his own body. The echoes of their screams brought chills to the Winter Soldier, but all he could do was watch in horror, like looking out a window.
A loud voice broke through the screaming.
“Bucky! Bucky, wake up!”
He felt his body being shaken as he looked for the source of the voice, but no one was there.
“Bucky! Wake! Up!”
Shooting up in bed, Bucky was surprised to find you right there, eyes wide and expression fearful. His eyes jumped around the room as he hyperventilated. No Winter Soldier. No house blowing up. No murder that he committed. It was just another dream. When his gaze found you again, you were reaching for his hand and holding it between your own.
“It’s okay,” You said soothingly. “It was just a dream. Everything is fine.” The sound of your voice and the look in your eyes was enough to calm him down, his breathing slowing back to normal. He could feel his body begin to ease as you stroked the back of his hand with your thumb.
“Did I wake you?” He asked when he felt like he was able to speak again. At that moment, that was the most important thing. Comfort filled him when you shook your head.
“I went to the bathroom and heard you yelling,” You explained. “Ran as fast as I could.” There were no words for the amount of appreciation he felt. Laying back into the pillow, he continued to stare at you. He felt it, simmering in his chest. The feelings he had for you were beginning to grow into something beyond platonic, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. You had become such an important role in his life, more than likely without even realizing it. It was just second nature to you to care about people. As he looked at you in this moment, he thought of the two months since you had joined the team, and how he almost couldn’t remember what it was like without you there.
“I’m sorry for waking you,” He said sheepishly. When he glanced at the clock, it read half passed three, and he felt even more guilty. “You can go back to bed now, I’m fine.” To his surprise, you shook your head.
“How about…” You said as you laid down next to him on your side, propping your head with your hand. “You tell me about your nightmare… and maybe you won’t get it again? At least tonight.”
Why was this action so shocking to him? At this point, it shouldn’t have been. But every time you showed him an ounce of compassion, he always found himself surprised.
A smile spread across his face as he snuggled further into his pillow.
“Most of my nightmares are things that I did as the Winter Soldier,” He began to explain. “And this one was pretty gruesome…” He paused as a guilt hit him. Part of him was waiting for you to stop him, to tell him you didn’t want to hear it. A few seconds had passed before you cleared your throat.
“Go on,” You told him.
And he did, detailing the worst of his subconscious memories to you. You listened intently, taking in every word. The minutes ticked by as he found himself continuing to talk, probably talking more now than he had in a long time. But you never stopped him, never once interrupted. Every so often, he’d pause to let you speak, but then you’d ask questions and he would go on again. The ache and panic he felt when he woke were completely gone, replaced with comfort and ease. So much, in fact, that the two of you dozed off after a few hours had passed.
When Steve came into Bucky’s room the next day to wake him for training, he was surprised to find you there, the two of you still sleeping. While Bucky was still on his side, you were now lying on your stomach, but both you and him were still facing each other. Bucky’s arm was lazily thrown around you, as your hand was reaching out towards him, a narrow space between the tips of your fingers and his chest. Steve stared for a minute, taking in the contentment on your face and the relaxation on Bucky’s, before smiling to himself. He took one last glance before turning around, quietly shutting the door behind him.
~~
Bucky wasn’t much for comforting.
But he couldn’t let this one slide.
He heard it from the outside of the roof access door, and immediately knew what was happening. The loud, shallow breathing followed by sobs. He had been there time and time again. The thought of leaving it alone crossed his mind for a quick second, but he shoved that thought away as quickly as it came. He knew it was you, and you had done too much for him. There was no way he could just leave this alone. He owed you.
The door wasn’t supposed to hit the wall and scare you, but Bucky always underestimated his strength, as he usually did. It was evident you had been pacing, as you were standing and your foot was out, mid step. Your tear stained cheeks glimmered in the setting sun, your eyes wide and filled with fear. It took almost no time for Bucky to make it over to you, his hands immediately cupping your cheeks as if the movement was automatic.
“What happened?” He asked in an uncharacteristically soft voice. “Talk to me.” Your entire body was shaking under his grip and he felt himself beginning to panic as well. But he couldn’t. He needed to be the strong one this time. The pads of his thumbs wiped the tears from your face, but more tears continued to stream down them.
“I don’t- I don’t know,” You admitted, which made you cry harder. “Everything was fine and then- then I was panicking and I don’t know how- how to stop it.” Dropping his hands to your shoulders, Bucky lead you to one of the lawn chairs he had brought up a while ago, gently having you sit down in it. He kneeled down in front of you so that he was eye level with you.
“You have to breathe,” He said, moving his head to line his eyes up with yours. When you looked away, he said your name to regain your attention. “You have to try to breathe.” You began shaking your head.
“I can’t, Bucky,” You gasped out, it coming out as a whimper as more tears fell from your eyes. His grasp on your shoulders tightened as he stared at you.
“You have to try,” He said softly before slowly inhaling and exhaling. “Do it with me. Breathe in. Breathe out.” He did it a few more times until you began to do it with him. After a few tries, your breathing began to be less staggered, the hiccups going down with them. Bucky didn’t stop doing the breathing with you until your breaths were completely normal. It wasn’t until then that he realized how cold it was outside, with you just being in a thin long sleeve shirt and leggings. How long had your teeth been chattering? Immediately, Bucky stood and grabbed your arm to pull you up with him.
“It’s fucking freezing out here, are you crazy?” He demanded as he pulled you towards the warmth of the inside. You were like a rag doll, dragging your feet as he got you through the door. With how slow you were going, he had half a mind to carry you down the stairs, but decided against it. Your hand was freezing, leeching the warmth from his, and it had him wondering just how long you were out there.
Before long, you were on the couch with a blanket draped around your shoulders and he was handing you a mug of steaming hot chocolate. You didn’t make eye contact as you took the warm mug from his hands, your stone cold fingers wrapping tightly around it. He slowly took a seat next to you, eyeing you in concern. For the first time for as long as Bucky had known you, you looked small.
“You can’t shut me out like this,” He said after a few moments of silence. You stole a quick glance at him before taking a long sip from your mug. “We’ve been friends for three months. I’ve learned to trust you, and I thought the same could be said for you. Why don’t you come to me for things?” A sigh left your mouth as you set the mug down on the end table next to you, pulling the blanket around you tighter before turning to him again. It was clear by the look on your face and by the way you opened then closed your mouth a few times without saying anything that the words you were about to say weren’t easy for you.
“I’m supposed to be stronger than this,” You told him, sniffling. “I thought I was over the whole having-panic-attacks-over-nothing thing.” Burying your face in the blanket covered hands, you sighed. “I just feel so stupid.” Without thinking, Bucky leaned forward and scooped you up, bringing you into his chest as he laid back into the corner of the couch. Your scent filled his nose and lungs, and it did him better than any of the stress relief candles that Steve had pushed him to use.
“You’re not stupid or weak,” He said as he rubbed circles into your back with his hand that was wrapped around you. “You’re allowed to have moments of weakness. No one is expecting you to be strong all the time.” Snuggling deeper into his chest, you let out a sigh, but said nothing.
He didn’t know. He didn’t know you felt that you had to be strong. Was it for him? It had to be. Your relationship with the rest of the team just wasn’t the same as it was with him, and he was more than aware of it. Of course you would come to him when you had a worry or a problem, but he had never seen you in a state like this before. And now he knew why. A mixture of guilt and appreciation filled him. Guilt for you feeling like you couldn’t go to him, but still grateful that you would put that much effort into anyone, let alone him.
“Why did you go up to the roof today?” You mumbled into his shirt. He snorted. Even in your most fragile of states, you were still putting him above yourself.
“I don’t even remember,” He mumbled. He didn’t hear it, but he felt your body bounce slightly against him, indicating you scoffed.
“Don’t lie,” You pressed, lifting your head to look at him, your chin resting against his chest. He shook his head, unable to fight the soft smile he had for the light that had returned to your eyes.
“I’m not,” He insisted. Because he wasn’t. The minute he heard your crying, everything else had left his mind except for finding out what was wrong. Nothing else mattered. Somehow even when you weren’t trying, you were still helping him. Rolling your eyes, you laid your head back down on his chest.
“Whatever you say, Sarge,” You mumbled before letting out a yawn.
There was so much he wanted to say, so much he had been holding back. Showing gratitude was still a problem for him, for no reason that he could explain. You didn’t appear to mind, but that was only because you did everything you did without expecting a thank you or some sort of reward. You did it because you were filled to the brim with compassion, and Bucky could thank you every day for the rest of his life and he still wouldn’t find that he said it enough.
He opened his mouth to speak, but a deep breath stopped him, and when he looked down at you, he could see enough of your face to tell that you were asleep. Defeated, his head fell back into the couch. His blinking slowed until he found himself dozing off with you. Before he fully let himself fall asleep, the last thing he thought about was the way you smelled and your body tucked into his, and how it would feel to fall asleep like this every night, and wake up to you every morning.
~~
Bucky wasn’t much for containing his temper.
It wasn’t something he could always control. Some days, when he felt particularly anxious or when his PTSD was making him feel too much, he found himself blowing up at the wrong people for the wrong reasons. He knew it wasn’t fair, he knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t stop himself.
Which explained this moment, where you were staring him down with your arms crossed over your chest and a hard glare on your face. There was a small part of him that felt guilty for yelling at you, telling you to go away and mind your business, but it was overpowered by the rest of him that was too busy overloading to care.
“Are you done?” You asked him. “I’m just trying to help you. There’s no reason for you to be talking to me like that.” For whatever reason, you being so calm and collected only made him angrier.
“You never bother me when I’m up here,” He grumbled. “Why start now?”
“Because I saw the way you’ve been acting all day, and I know somethings wrong and I don’t know why all of a sudden you’re pushing me away,” You said, defensively talking in a rushed tone. He shook his head.
“You’ve been hovering the last couple of days,” He said, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “I noticed. What’s up with that?” He saw your eyebrows knit together, the gears turning in your head to come up with a proper response. But when your mouth opened and closed with no response passing your lips, he knew that he had caught you in an act you had been hoping he didn’t notice.
“I just...I haven’t- I’ve just been worried about you,” You stammered, not making eye contact. Arms unwinding from your chest, you began to anxiously play with your fingers. Bucky stared at them before speaking again.
“Don’t lie to me,” He hissed. Your mouth dropped open, flustered.
“I’m not lying!” You snapped, but his finger pointed at you again.
“I can tell!” He shouted. “You only stutter when you lie. Why have you been hovering?” You bit your lip, a long time passing with no response. He raised his eyebrows and cocked his head forward, a silent demand for an answer, but all it did was make you look away from him. When a full minute had passed and you still hadn’t said anything, he firmly said your name.
“I heard what you told Steve the other day,” You finally said, a rough edge to your tone. When Bucky’s face grew confused, you huffed. “I was walking past the living room when you and Steve were talking on Monday, and I heard you tell him what you tried to do in Bucharest all those years ago, and how you sometimes think about doing it again.”
It was like you had dropped a bomb in Bucky’s chest. Now it was his turn to not know what to say. Things like that were private, and he intended to keep them that way. Not because he didn’t trust you, or didn't want you to know. But because of what was happening right now. He didn’t want the extra burden on you. His hands found his face, running down from his hairline to his jawline.
“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” He said in a quiet voice, a definite change from the way he had been speaking to you before.
“Well I fucking did,” You said angrily. “And I’ve been worried sick about you for days. We talk all the time and you never bothered to tell me that you felt like…” You gestured, and if Bucky didn’t know any better, he’d have thought there were tears filling your eyes. “Doing that to yourself.” He felt frozen as he stared at you. Your expression was angry, but your eyes were filled with so much pain and worry, that now he felt guilty. He had never intended to make you feel this way. Hell, he never intended for you to find out in the first place. But now you knew, and you didn’t find out from him telling you directly, and he couldn’t help but be angry at himself too. Throw his treatment of you on top, while you were just trying to look out for him like you always were, and all of the anger he had felt before washed away.
“I’m sorry,” He finally said. “I didn’t mean for you to find out that way. I should’ve told you.” There was a long pause, as you stared at the floor. With every second that passed without a response, Bucky got more and more anxious. “I’m sorry I lost my temper with you too. That wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.” You brought your hand to your mouth, your fingertips resting on your lower lip as your elbow was propped up by your other hand. Bucky stood there watching, wishing you would yell or scream or punch him in the face. He couldn’t stand the silence.
“It’s funny,” You finally said as you looked up at the wall behind him. Still not looking at him. “I’ve seen you lose your temper so many times. On Tony. Sam. Natasha. Even Steve sometimes. But you’ve never treated me like that before.” Your shoulders rose for a few seconds before slumping back down. When your eyes found him again, he felt a rush of cold fill his body. “I guess it was stupid of me to think the day would never come.”
The guilt was indescribable as it ate Bucky alive. Words failed him as his thoughts screamed, telling him to fix it. That he had to fix it. You were the only one who truly got him. Everything you did for him was to show him that you cared, and this is how he repaid you. First he never truly showed you his appreciation. And now he did the emotional equivalent to punching you in the face.
He took a step forward, quietly saying your name, but you turned away from him.
“I’m just gonna go inside,” You mumbled, your strides quick as you got further and further away, and all Bucky could do was stand there dumbfoundedly and watch. The only time he moved was when he flinched when the door pounded against the wall, and once again when it clicked shut.
~~
Bucky wasn’t much of a talker. Especially when it came to his emotions.
That’s what made what he was about to do so much harder.
It had been a week since the rooftop altercation. For the most part, you had done a pretty good job at avoiding him. And he felt the toll it was taking. He missed you. Desperately. It was to the point where the air seemed to leave his lungs every time he got a quick look at you, but you never stuck around long enough for him to say anything. When he tried to go to his friends for advice, Sam had said something that had stuck out in Bucky’s mind.
So, what you’re saying is, you’re in love with her?
It was almost as if he had been hit with a fly ball at a baseball game. Never had he considered the idea. Was he in love with you? He wasn’t sure. When he defended himself to Sam, he had only laughed at him and then sarcastically said that he believed him.
But then he sat in his room for a long time, and really thought about it. He would go up to the roof and hope that you were there, and feel a sort of ache in his chest if you weren’t. And when you were, it was like the sun was rising deep in him, reaching even the darkest corners of his soul. From day one, you had made his comfort your number one priority, a luxury for him that he had rarely been given. When he really let himself take a step back and really take in the whole thing, he wondered how he didn’t realize it before.
So now he was standing outside your door, an envelope in his hand. He knew he’d have a hard time saying it to you, so he wrote it all down. It was hard at first, but once he started, the words flowed out of him as if they had been dying to be said. It was a lot longer than he had intended it to be, but after reading it over several times and even having Steve and Sam read it over, he deemed it acceptable.
After three whole minutes of not making a move, Bucky finally lifted his fist and knocked on your door before he could talk himself out of the whole thing. As he listened to the shuffling from the other side of the door, he began to fidget. Shifting his standing position and changing what he was doing with his arms. The air left his lungs when the door swung open and there you were, with a blank face that was unreadable. Before you could say anything, he thrusted the envelope at you.
“I- what?” You asked, looking down at the paper in your hands before looking back up at Bucky.
“I need you to read that,” He said quickly before gently grabbing your hand. “But you can’t do it here.” He didn’t give you a chance to argue before pulling you down the hallway. At first, you seemed to resist, but once he opened the access door to the stairs, your reluctance was replaced with curiosity. As Bucky took the steps two at a time as he usually did, you had to basically run up them to keep up.
He paused outside of the roof access door, giving you a slight smile.
“What are we waiting for?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He gestured towards the letter in your hand.
“You have to read it first,” He said. Tilting your head slightly to the side, you carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the piece of paper, tiny scribbles covering both the front and back side. Bucky watched in anticipation as you read it, trying to figure out where in it you were based on your facial expressions. At first, you were confused, with eyebrows knitted and your lips pursed together, but then your face glowed in the dim lighting. A bright smile filled your cheeks as you flipped the paper over to continue, your eyes finding Bucky.
“Keep going!” He said impatiently. You laughed softly before continuing. He tried to look around the hallway, but his eyes kept jumping back to you, waiting for you to be finished. Finally, you dropped your hand with the piece of paper down to your side and looked back up at him.
“I forgive you for everything,” You told him, still smiling so wide that it made his heart race. You tilted your head again. “But why are we up here?” He chuckled.
“The letter was just part of what I wanted to say,” He said, his hand gripping the door handle and opening the entrance to the roof. With a raise of his hand, he gestured for you to go first. You narrowed your eyes at him before making your way out. He couldn’t see your face as he followed you out onto the roof, but he heard your audible gasp.
Hundreds of sticky notes covered the ground of the rooftop, every one of them listing off reasons why Bucky loved you. Your hair. Your eyes. The sound of your laugh. The fact that you remembered everything he ever said. Your taste in books. The way you still looked cute even when you were crying. Your caring nature. When he ran out of reasons a little over halfway through the roof, the rest of the notes alternated between saying the words thank you and I love you.
Slowly, you walked around the roof, picking up notes at random at carrying them with you. Occasionally, Bucky could hear a quiet sob coming from your direction. After you had scaled the entirety of the roof, a large pile of notes in your hands, you made your way back to Bucky. He beamed at the wide smile on your face. When you stopped a couple of feet in front of him, he reached out to wipe away the tears that stained your cheeks.
“What’s this for?” You asked in a voice filled with disbelief, showing him one of the notes in your hand that read thank you. He laughed nervously.
“I’ve always come to you with my negative feelings,” He said, cocking his head slightly to the side. “But I’ve never told you my positive ones.” He looked down at his shoes, swallowing the anxiety rising in his chest before looking back up. “You’re also always there and giving a shit about me and I’ve never thanked you. Not once.” Your eyebrows furrowed together as you shook your head.
“You thank me any time you’re there for me,” You told him. “You never had to say it, I already knew.” You flipped through the notes, stopping at one in particular. When you lifted it up, it was one that read I love you. Bucky felt his stomach doing somersaults.
“Something I’ve felt for a while,” He admitted slowly. “But couldn’t find the nerve to say.” Looking away, you turned and began walking around the roof again, obviously searching for something. Bucky watched you in confusion, and suddenly an intense rush of anxiety shot up his spine. Should he not have told you? Did you not feel the same? When you began bending down and picking up random notes, it only furthered his confusion.
After a few minutes of Bucky internally melting down, you finally bent down and picked up one final note before very confidently walking back to him.
“These are my notes to you,” You said, holding a small pile out to him. He eyed you before reading the top one, and he felt like his whole heart was going to burst out of his chest.
Whenever I look at you, I feel all of my problems just melt away.
I’ve never felt more myself with anyone else.
You make me feel strong. Like I can do anything in the world.
I’m so incredibly thankful for you.
And then, the final one.
I love you.
“The ‘too’ at the end of the last one is implied,” You pointed out. Shaking his head, Bucky dropped the notes on the floor and grabbed you by your shoulders, pulling you in for a kiss. It was soft and gentle, as most first kisses were, and he pulled away much sooner than either of you wanted.
“Was that okay?” He asked you, slightly worried. You rolled your eyes, before grabbing a fistful of the front of his shirt.
“You worry too much,” You muttered before pulling him down for another.