Five: Dirty Dancing

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Bucky wakes up to music. It's playing from outside the room, echoing through the halls and filling the apartment with sound.

It reminds him of when he was a kid and his mom would make them all breakfast as the radio would softly play in the background. She'd always have a smile on her face and twirl around the kitchen and sometimes, when they were still little enough, she'd pick up him or one of his sisters and slowly sway along with them in her arms.

It's a hazy memory, he's barely able to grasp it, but it's there nonetheless and that makes all the difference.

Rays of sun flood the apartment, coloring it in hues of orange and gold. Bucky steps out of Ellie's room and into the hallway from which he can see straight into the kitchen. Ellie's standing by the stove, a frilly pink apron wrapped around her waist and spatula in hand. Her hips shake slightly to the beat of the song and her lips move along with the lyrics.

Bucky wonders if he'll ever get that. This feeling of pure comfort in his own home. To find who he really is and allow himself to be that person, no inhibitions, no holding back. Just be himself and be confident in who that might be.

" You can keep standing there like a creep or you can come over here and help me, grumpy"

At the sound of her voice, he jumps a little, too lost in could-bes and what-ifs to realize she's long noticed him leaning against the doorway. Her hair is a mess and there's still eyeliner and glitter from last night stuck to her skin. But Bucky thinks she's never looked better. It's an intimate moment, to watch her in all her imperfect ways, move around her own home, being the most comfortable and at ease she's ever been. There's something about the way she looks at him then, showered in golden sunlight, a bright smile on her face. Bucky knows what it is he feels, deep down inside of him, flickering up like a light in the dark. He knows what it is. It's not a feeling you forget once you've felt it.

He's not gonna say it though, not gonna admit it to himself or anyone. All that can come from it is misery and heartbreak and while his heart is of very little value to him, hers means everything. So he'll ignore it, shove it to the deepest darkest corner of himself and try not to acknowledge it in hopes it'll go away.

" You're cooking? " he asks as he steps up next to her, eyebrows raised in uncertainty.

"I'm making pancakes, and don't look at me like that!" Ellie replies, swatting him with a dish towel, " I know my cookies weren't the best and I am well aware that my coffee sucks. But if there's one thing I can make, it's pancakes. Trust me. "

He does trust her. It's something that he only fully realizes at that moment. Such an insignificant little moment. He trusts her, which is terrifying but also liberating at the same time. Maybe his life is on the right path. Maybe things can get better. Step by tiny step.

" Hey, I ate your cookies, didn't I? "

She looks up at him, a small smile playing on her lips, eyes shining with — something he can't quite place. Maybe, he thinks, maybe he doesn't need to know what it means. It means something and that's all that counts in the grand scheme of things.

"Yeah, yeah you did."

For a moment it's just them and the music and the bliss of a morning spent with a friend.

" Okay, hand me the batter please?" Ellie says and points towards a big blue bowl standing by on the counter to his right. As he hands it to her though, Ellie doesn't immediately start pouring the batter, instead, she dips her finger into it and holds it out to Bucky.

" Try it, tell me if it's too sweet. "

He's hesitant for a moment. You don't just go around licking your friends' fingers. Surely social cues haven't changed that much. But when she moves her hand closer once again and adds a determined "taste it before it drips onto the floor", he wraps his lips around her finger, tasting the sweet pancake batter. It's not too sweet, not at all, it's perfect. He can't really voice that thought though, not when his mind is somewhere else entirely. Somewhere it really shouldn't be.

Love like the movies // Bucky BarnesWhere stories live. Discover now