Secretive - Bucky Barnes

5 || Don't Lie

[Nova]
»Listen to me, James.« When he does not move, I put more importance into my voice, which, surprisingly, does not shake. »Look at me.«

His head cautiously moves upwards, until his eyes lock with mine after a few seconds. They speak of a great sadness, of a weight carried long, of scars ripped open again, and again, and again.

»I am not...« I breathe, my voice now shaking, »I am not feared by this.« My forefinger points at his left arm, the star aggressively red on his shoulder like it dared me to hate him for it, and reminding me slightly on the Red Army of the Soviet Union. »But I am mad for you lying to me. This does not seem like an accident in a chimney.« He follows my every move, me stepping carefully closer to him until I stand right to his front, fearing he might step back, but does not. »Look, James.« My voice is more soothing now, calmer, underlined by the slow movement of my hand that finds its home on the soft skin of his newly shaven cheek. It really is unfair that he does not even need to put a lot of effort to have such smooth skin.

I feel the weight of his head slowly sinking into my palm, see him closing his eyes for just a couple of moments until I speak again. The butterflies in my stomach are back, angrily driving out the adrenalin from shock and making themselves the most prominent, the most important now. Reminding me of how this man is making me feel, regardless of him missing a limb.

Our eyes are locked, our souls are locked, and I feel him relax slightly, knowing that I will not leave him for this. »I'm totally fine with you telling me you don't want me to know something. I'm totally fine with you telling me it's none of my business, that I shouldn't ask again. I won't. Maybe I did push you too much, I don't know. If so, say so. Everything I ask for in return is you not lying to me. That's the deal.«

He closes his eyes one more time, enjoying the comfort the hand on his cheek seems to give him. He nods after a moment of hesitation, a movement so tiny I would not have recognized it if I did not feel it.

Suddenly, I feel both his arms, the real one as the metal one, carefully wrapping themselves around my waist. He pulls me onto him, and I can feel his chest on mine moving heavily, but not out of shock this time. When he looks down at me, finally opening the ocean blue eyes I could get lost in and do so often, my legs almost cannot hold the tension. I am sure I would be on the ground by now, on my knees, if it were not for these two strong arms around me. He inhales deeply, and with another pull, I know he wants to calm himself down, because his heart is racing just as fast as mine.

»I don't want to talk about how it happened.« It is not more than a whisper, but the words so perfectly shaped by his mouth cause another wave of goosebumps flowing through my body from head to toe.

Although I could perfectly imagine this beforehand, I still feel the knife of mistrust piercing in my heart. But he agreed to the deal, and I proposed it, so I need to keep hold on it. Maybe someday.
»That's fine.« I whisper back, the hand on his cheek slowly moving along his sharp jaw to his neck. I can't even see it as a flaw. Everybody has it, no one is completely perfect, actually. But that isn't changing my mind to think him as enough for me.

He leans forward, resting his forehead slowly on mine. I close my eyes for a minute, inhale his scent that sends warmth through my veins, so much more intense than already in his flat, but still catch his daring look beforehand. He is well aware I am not finished yet, and he is the first person I do not care about knowing me that as well. »I still have a few questions.« I breathe against his lips, which are achingly close to mine now. It are only centimetres, maybe not even. I do not know; I cannot think straight. Every question I had was sent flying the second after I got out my words, me not being able to remember the least of them. He is distracting, consuming, claiming every inch of my brain as his.