Love like the movies // Bucky Barnes

Three: Little Shop Of Horrors

Bucky vividly remembers being about 10 years old and sitting on the living room floor watching his father assemble a heavy cabinet made from dark, massive wood. It had intricate gold ornaments along the sides and around the edges and even at that young age, he knew that it must've been expensive.

He likes thinking back to that memory, mostly because it's one of the few that he can still tightly hold onto and recount the exact way he's felt then, and partly because it's so seemingly insignificant. It's nice to know that some of the memories he regained after having his mind wiped clean, are tiny unimportant ones. It's not just the big moments and grand gestures that make life worth living. Sometimes it's the little things, the small details you look back on and fondly remember with a smile on your face.

Looking at the furniture before him, Bucky can't imagine what his mother would think of these cabinets. Everything is white or beige or grey and there's a lot of shiny black fronts and glass doors. The place is huge, so huge they have to tape arrows on the floor so people don't get lost, and it smells of artificial vanilla and sawdust.

It's not like he hates the furniture here, it's just a lot and quite honestly, he's not sure what really matches his personal style. Hell, he hasn't had a personal style since before he went to fight in the war.

" Ooooh, this one is very you! " Ellie exclaims as she lets herself fall onto a fluffy brown 2-seat sofa.

If it wasn't for her, Bucky wouldn't be here. Not only because he wants her to come around more often and actually be able to sit on a couch, but also because she was literally the one driving them both here.

"Watcha doin? "

That was the text that started it, and before he knew she had pulled up to his apartment building, arm hanging from her open car window, and yelled "Get in loser, we're going furniture shopping! "

Bucky assumes that is another movie reference though he doesn't dare ask her about it.

"Nope, that's a two-seater. Too small. I want to be able to sleep on it. "

" Or, and hear me out on this one, you could get a new bed to sleep in. "

He doesn't have any reply to that. It's not like he doesn't want to sleep in his bed, it's just — it's too soft. It's too comfortable. It makes it easy to fall asleep and dream. And it's never pleasant dreams. It's nightmares. It's faces that haunt him. Innocent faces. Eyes filled with terror. Fear. Fear of him. It's nightmares. It's memories.

When he doesn't answer, Ellie pulls herself back up from the sofa and wanders on "or we'll just have to find a bigger couch, that's fine too. "

And at that moment he's entirely grateful that she doesn't push him any further.

They wander around the store for a while longer, slalom in between sofas and recliners, swerve in and out of mock-up rooms, all the while Ellie keeps throwing puns at him incorporating the Swedish names of the furniture.

Hanging out with her kind of reminds him of the times he hung out with Steve when both of them were so much younger. Of course, it's nothing alike. He's not even close to the person he was then, the boy he was then. The thing is, back then everything was easy and light. Being here with her and listening to her horrible puns, that's easy too. For right now, he doesn't even notice the weight that's constantly resting on his heart or the perpetual shadow that seems to rest above him. This is easy and it feels so nice.

They step into yet another room, this one painted a dark forest green. Against the wall, there's a dark wooden cabinet holding books and a fake tv and in the middle is a corner sofa made from dark brown leather. It's big enough to fit both him and Ellie and maybe even Lady if she's okay with cuddling up a little to either of them.