Trying Your Luck - Bucky BarnesxOC

Part 11: Revelations

"I'm sorry, Bucky," she sighs. "Shit! I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he replies. His voice is soft, but his heart is hammering against his ribcage. He can feel himself sweating, his muscles aching to run. To escape. He takes a deep, steadying breath, suppressing instinct. "Can I shower? I promise, I'll explain everything."

"Of course! I — I'll be in the living room."

She disappears, shutting the door behind her. Bucky has never showered so fast in his life, scrubbing his skin quickly. He steps out and dries off, looking around, trying to make sense of what's happening. He reattaches his arm, squeezing his metal fist and splaying his fingers out just to make sure that it still works. He knows it does, it's just habit at this point. Bucky puts his jeans on, leaving his button-up shirt and suit jacket in a pile on the floor. If she's going to see him, she might as well see all of him. As he goes to put his hand on the doorhandle, he hears her breath on the other side. Quick, unsure. Scared. Just like him.

"Shannon?"

"Yeah," she replies.

"Are you right outside?"

"Yeah."

Her voice is soft and small. It makes him laugh.

"Have you been right outside the door this whole time?"

He can hear her sigh.

"I was afraid you were going to jump out the window or something and I'd never see you again."

Bucky smiles and opens the door. Her eyes take in his bare torso, his scars, and his metal arm. Water drips down his back and chest from the spots his missed drying his hair. He realizes that he forgot to take his dog tags off.

"I was actually afraid you were going to do that while I was in the shower."

She doesn't speak for a second and it makes him nervous. Her eyes simply rake over his torso, her chest rising and falling quickly. Her pupils are wide and her cheeks are flushed. Well, at least she's not horrified by the sight of him. That's a plus.

"Shannon?"

"Y—yeah — uh— I..."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she laughs, shaking her head. "Sorry, uh, do you want to sit in the living room?"

"Sure."

The walk to the living room feels like a death march. He has no idea what he's going to say and he couldn't plan it if he tried. Maybe he should have jumped out the window, but that wouldn't be fair to her. He remembers what Dr. Raynor told him. If this relationship is going to go further, she deserves the truth. Bucky's stomach flip flops and knots. For the first time in a very long time, his legs feel like they're made of rubber. When they sit on the couch, she surprises him by turning toward him, one knee resting against the back of the couch while her other foot is planted firmly on the floor. She reaches out and puts her hands on his metal forearm.

"So, I kind of figured something was off," she says.

"You did?"

"Yeah. The gloves, the not wanting to take your shirt off or even wear a t-shirt. I thought maybe you had a scar or something, but I did not expect this." She runs her fingers along the arm. Bucky feels pressure from her touch, but not the kind of sensation that he would if she were dragging her fingertips along his skin. "I've never seen a prosthetic arm like this before. Why didn't you just tell me?"

He sighs.

"It's not that I think the arm is a big deal. I don't. It's what it means... and what it's done."