James Bucky Barnes, the former soldier, doesn't think he's got any gentleness left in him. But Grace Juniper Cunningham, the former child prodigy, strongly disagrees.
;
"𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯."
"𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴�...
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CW: an instance of daddy kink, mentions of daddy kink will continue throughout the book, just warning you here!
The next morning, when I impulsively checked my inbox on my phone, there was nothing important. I felt hollow.
Finals were well and truly over. And the semester, employment-wise, only had a couple of days left. I had to decide if I was going to accept Tony's offer or not. I was running out of time. So panic started to fill the hollowness.
I tried to relax.
Natasha had already left her apartment by the time I woke up, much later in the day than usual. I took my time getting ready. I swayed around to music while I put on a face mask. I spent too long in the shower. I tied my hair up and put on my favorite yellow sundress, which I usually reserved for dates and other day plans, and then I did nothing but drink water and eat a bagel, without once opening my laptop.
None of it helped. I still felt dizzy at the prospect of making a decision. And all morning I felt on the verge of tears, like any little thing could set them off, for a reason I couldn't pin down at all.
I decided to go look for Bruce around the labs. He had trouble relaxing too, and it was better to have company. But I jumped at a shock of panic when I opened my door and saw someone outside getting up from the floor.
When I'd been looking around every corner for Rumlow for the past week, it wasn't a nice surprise to open my door and see a huge man there.
"Bucky..." I said shakily, and tapped my toes inside my shoes to calm down from the shock. 1, 2, 3, 4.
As I recovered from the shock, the tears finally spilled over. With relief? With the realization that the reason I was about to cry all morning was now standing in front of me? There was some sort of release happening against my will. I tried to suck the tears back into my body. It didn't work. How humiliating.
"Fuck—I'm sorry Grace, I'm really sorry. What do I do? Should I go?" He reached his hand toward me, thought better of it, and jammed it into his pocket.
"I'm fine," I said, wiping my cheeks, clearing my throat. "I'm good. Why wouldn't I be?"
I got the tears under control. Except for the redness that was probably in my eyes, and my probably wet eyelashes, and possibly a flush, I thought maybe it didn't even look like I'd cried for a second at all. Maybe he hadn't noticed.
