Yours... 'til the End of the Line

Free-Falling

It took a few days to settle into the city life of Philadelphia, but Steve and I managed just fine. I tried getting in contact with Peggy, but her correspondents came few and far between. She gave me little information to go off of. Something about being listened to, so I dropped the questions and just asked her general statements. She was able to inform me of where she would be headed, stating that I would have to live with that.

It was strange not seeing her on a daily basis. The woman practically lived at my apartment for the better part of two years. I missed the way she would barge into my apartment at ungodly hours and yell at me to get out of bed. Or the way she would make tea when I was feeling under the weather. She treated me like a child, to be honest, but she was one of the best people I ever knew.

After five days in Philadelphia, Steve and I were being hauled off to Chicago, then New York. They had us jumping from state to state, anywhere they deemed a morale boost would be necessary. As I packed my final bag to head off toward the airport, a knock sounded at my door. Sighing, I pushed myself away from my belongings and padded my bare feet along the carpet. I quickly unlatched the locks and hauled the door open. One of the dancers stood impatiently in the doorframe, a white envelop in her hands.

"A lieutenant dropped this at my door by mistake," she gave me a curt smile before sauntering off down the hall.

"Thanks," I muttered, adjusting the envelope in my hands I closed the door behind me.

Striding across the room, I plopped down onto the plush mattress and tore the letter open. The handwriting was messier than usual. The letter looked like it was written in a haste.

Dear Elettra,
We're moving. I don't know if I'll receive your next letter, but please write. You have no idea how much hearing from you has helped me. I don't say that lightly. I have loved hearing from you, though I wish I could talk to you in person.
I don't have much time to write, but I'm going to try to put all my thoughts and feelings into this letter, so please, bear with me for a moment.

I love that you call me James and not Bucky, it makes you different. Any name falling from those lips would sound perfect. Even when you call me a bastard, I don't care because you're still talking to me. That's all I ever ask of you.
I am going to tell you something I never told anyone... not even Steve... that night that you ran into me in the bar, I remember it like it was yesterday. I watched you for a moment, while you were on the dancefloor with your friend. You moved so effortlessly as the music flowed right through you. I hesitated for a moment before I got up from the bar to talk to you. I admit I was nervous, and I was the one who bumped into you, not the other way around. I wanted to know the girl in the blue dress. When you left that night, I was sad to watch you leave... I looked for you every night after that. Only for fate to bring you back when I was leaving.
Talking to you in that café solidified something in me. I was, and still am, determined to get to know the girl with the deep hazel eyes with specks of gold and a light blue ring. The girl with a fierce determination to make the world better and help people get to know themselves more than they think they already do. The girl who makes fun of my handwriting, even in the midst of a battle. The girl who read me like a book and didn't hold back, no matter how much it hurt to hear the truth. That's what pulls me to you. You're honest... to a fault. Loyal. Trustworthy. And absolutely breathtaking.
I'm not missing that drink. Too stubborn to die? I'll live up to that. I want to get to know you. I want to see you again. I want to know every embarrassing story Uncle Ollie can tell me.
Tell Steve I'll see him soon. I think you may be right about him. He's going to go further than I could ever imagine.
Please, write again. I don't care if I don't get the letter. I hope they'll find a way to bring it to me. Maybe even save it 'til I get back. Just know, reading a letter is nothing compared to hearing your voice.