This Is Stella's Reality

July 23, 2015

Bucky walked in from the garden and carried a small bundle of herbs. He was dressed in a white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up and simple black pants.

He got to work chopping those herbs and throwing them into the sizzling pan of browning chicken along with some butter and white wine.

I smiled to myself as I brushed a loaf of bread with egg wash and placed it into the oven. Our dinner party would start in about half an hour, so I left Bucky to hopefully not burn the food, and I went to change.

Our closet held all the same clothes it had in the compound. I rifled through the hangers, ignoring the heartache I felt when my fingers brushed over one of Steve's shirts.

Finally, I grabbed a white cotton sundress and threw it on. I put on some make up for the first time in what felt like forever and fluffed my new hair.

Bucky was whistling some '40s song when I rejoined him in the kitchen. He had one hand in his pocket, and the setting sun was golden in his curly hair.

He turned around to smile at me. "Hey, doll," he teased, "you got plans tonight? Can I take you out?" He set his spatula down and held my waist.

I hummed. "I'm supposed to have dinner with this cute guy and some friends," I mused.

"Fuck dinner, darling," he mumbled against my forehead as he pressed lazy kisses to my skin. "You look too hot to sit in this house all night."

"How about," I placed my hands on his chest and moved him a few inches away from me, "you be a good boy tonight, and maybe I'll fuck you later."

He smirked. "Maybe?" He asked with those sharp eyes of his narrowed at me.

I winked at him and slipped from his arms. "Depends on how good you can be," I said listlessly as I turned to the oven to check the bread.

Bucky slapped my ass when I bent over to test the crumb. I rolled my eyes and pulled the loaf from the oven with my magic, setting it to cool on the kitchen island.

There was a knock at the door as Bucky was straining the pasta from its boiling water. Anxiety rippled through me. It had been so long since we hung out with people. And never since Bucky and I acted like the married couple we were and entertained guests in our own space.

I felt giddy and lightheaded as I skipped to the door and opened it. Wanda was smiling brightly in a pretty black dress, and Pietro stood awkwardly behind her in simple clothes.

Bruce and Thor shouted when they saw us, their faces lighting up like the first stars dotting the night sky. They pulled me into an embrace, and I noticed the eye roll and gentle smile Loki wore as he stood next to them.

"It is so good to see you, Stel," Bruce said. His hands lingered on my shoulders. "Did you cut your hair?"

I grinned, "Technically Bucky cut my hair."

Thor gently touched the short ends and nodded with approval. "It suits you, my Lady."

The group walked in, admiring the cottage and all it had to offer. Loki shut the door behind him and grabbed my wrist as I turned to talk to them.

He extended his hand which was holding a lovely bouquet of flowers. Deep red roses, calla lilies, baby's breath, and eucalyptus.

"They're not from me," he said, "don't flatter yourself."

Steve. I nodded and took the bouquet, turning to look at Bucky who was staring at me with a faltering smile.

He knew. I saw him suck his teeth and shake his head as he turned back to the glasses of wine he was pouring.