This Is Stella's Reality

April 23, 2015

Bucky snored softly on the bed. Gentle dreams and visions of bright summer days drifted from his sleeping thoughts. I smiled when I saw myself or Steve in those dreams.

I was sitting on the floor near the coffee table, struggling to pay attention to a book in my hands as Steve drew in his notebook next to me.

My mind was wandering, distracted and too curious.

"Steve?" I said gently.

His blue eyes turned to me; they were bright and alive with his gentle nature. He smiled at me, "Yeah, sweets?" The pet name sent a blush creeping across my cheeks.

"Can I ask you something?" I didn't know if I really wanted to ask, but my gut told me I had to.

He closed his notebook and stared at me for a moment. Worry flashed through his features so quickly if I had blinked, I would have missed it. He nodded slowly.

Suddenly, my breath was caught in my throat. Why did I have to open my big mouth? I sighed. "Were you and Natasha serious?" My voice was barely audible.

Steve huffed a laugh. "No," he said it almost bitterly. "We fucked, and I liked her a lot, but," his voice drifted away. "We wanted different things. It would have never worked out."

There were hints of sadness in his face that made my heart squeeze a bit. I inched closer to him and gently ran my fingers down his arm. "Sorry for asking," I said. "I just wanted to know. Wanted to make sure we didn't pull you from each other."

He shook his head and pinched his eyebrows together. "You don't need to be sorry." His eyes rose to meet mine. They weren't that soft sky blue of earlier. There was an intensity in them that reminded me of ocean depths. "Can I ask you something?" My heart skipped a beat.

It was only fair. I nodded.

"Am I pulling you and Bucky apart?" He asked.

Shock lit up my nerves. Immediately, I shook my head no. "What?" I asked. "Steve, no, of course not." My hand found his and squeezed. "I love that you and Bucky have each other, and I love that I have you too." I lifted his knuckles to my lips and kissed his calloused fingers. "Please don't think you're ruining anything. The three of us are better together." I tried to be as reassuring as possible.

He gave me a small smile and leaned towards me, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I'm glad you think so," he mumbled.

We stayed like that for a while, leaning against his sturdy frame, and Steve letting me drape myself across him. He opened his notebook again, and I saw what he had been drawing.

It was Bucky and I, smiling, pressed together and looking at the imaginary lense of the artist. My heart jumped to my throat. That was how Steve saw us. Happy and beautiful.

My eyes drifted up to study his face. He purposefully was not looking at me. It astounded me sometimes how shy Steve was. He was often awkward and bashful. It was cute.

I leaned up and pressed a kiss to his jawline. He smiled at that and continued adding details to the image. I watched, mesmerized with the way his pencil shaded features and emphasized others. The wave of my hair, the light in Bucky's eyes, my dimples and Bucky's beard. Steve was a great artist.

Alpine seemed to remember we existed. She chirped from the windowsill, jumping down to the floor and jogging over to Steve and I. My fingers rubbed her cheeks as she began to purr. Her fluffy tail whacked around in excitement, wanting to play.

Steve drummed his fingers on the table, encouraging her to jump up. Her pupils dilated, and her paws leaped up to pounce on his hand. He grinned and playfully shoved her weight around. Her cute teeth tried to nip at him, but he was just as fast as her.