The Hurt And The Healing: Bucky X OC

Chapter Sixty Eight: Unforced Proximity

When Bucky first stumbled out from Mara's bedroom and turned his charm up to eleven to buy her some more time, Nonna had been too angry to notice his rumpled shirt and flushed cheeks. But when Mara followed a minute later, with her mussed hair and awkward laughter it had taken the old woman a split second to figure out what had happened. And immediately Nonna's anger was replaced by glee and her demands that they clean up the mess they had made were replaced by claims that she was just passing through and about to leave again.

Bucky was more than happy to hurry her back out the door, allowing him to get back to what was shaping up to be an excellent evening. Or better yet, take Mara to one of the fancy hotels downtown and treat her to the evening that she deserved.

But to the others' surprise, Mara deftly shot down every opening for them to be alone once more. Bucky tried to get her to take a second, to tell him what she wanted. Instead she announced that she was going to make chicken stock and began to assemble the many tools and ingredients that she needed.

Nonna made up a hollow excuse to leave the room and shot Bucky a look behind Mara's back. All he could do was shrug and wait for them to be alone.

"Are you okay?" he asked as soon as it was just the two of them, trying to come behind Mara and rub her arms while she washed her hands. She stiffened at his touch but nodded.

"We can go somewhere else?" he offered. She gently shook him off and walked over to the freezer to retrieve the food scraps that had been waiting for months.

"I'm not in the mood anymore," she replied with a tight smile. Bucky frowned and reached for the magnet, wanting to smack it onto the refrigerator and make her use the frames to just tell him what was wrong. But he remembered that the magnet was in his jacket that had been so carelessly discarded on the welcome mat earlier.

What had that been earlier? Other than amazing. After months of refusing to allow himself to think of anything other than her lips he had managed to get a whole ten minutes of her. Kissing, tugging, holding on to him for dear life, her. And it had been a damn religious experience. When she had called him "James" he had gone light headed. When she had begged for him he had nearly lost what little sanity he had left. When she had taken off her shirt he wondered if he had just completed Purgatory and finally ascended to Heaven. The sight of her, so trusting and loving and in love- he frowned and adjusted his shirt, taking the opportunity to adjust his pants as well.

Mara seemed unfazed by what had just happened, the only sign that it had happened at all being her hair that she kept trying to fix in the reflective surfaces around her,

"Are you sure you don't want to-"

"I'm fine, Bucky," she said firmly but kindly. "It's just that grandmothers kinda kill the vibe." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek as she passed by. "We can talk more about it later."

"Promise?" he asked softly, placing a hand on her elbow and stopping her just long enough to make eye contact. Memories of Steve and wondering if the feelings were mutual came crashing back. Had he misread it all? Had she been too tired, too emotionally drained? Had he taken advantage? Had he-

"I promise," she assured him, smiling a little less tightly. "Now would you please stop frowning so much and get me the big pot from the top shelf?" She held up the frozen gallon bags of chicken carcasses and vegetable waste. "This stock isn't going to make itself!"

He nodded and reluctantly let her go, watching as she hurried over to the counter and began to work. No, he had not misread the situation earlier. Which was what gave him confidence in his reading of the current situation: she was hiding something.

If the first few minutes of Nonna's return had felt like agony, sitting through dinner had been actual torture. It was impossible for Mara to not be seated beside him at dinner, but each time he tried to so much as graze her hand when she passed him the parmesan she stood up and went to check on the simmering stock. Watching TV together had been just as painfully awkward. She checked on the stock so frequently that Nonna jokingly suggested that Mara just pull up a chair at the stovetop and watch TV from there.