You don't touch touch Bucky. It's a rule, a simple one. A rule that everyone one at the compound was aware of.
He had spoken with his therapist about his problem many times. She had told him he was suffering from touch deprivation. This problem most likely stemming from his years of captivation and torture. She told him that he should move at his own pace in interacting with others, but still push his comfort zone when possible. Yet he typically didn't bother in trying to do that.
It was an accident. She had never intended to break the rule.
Bucky and Sam were bantering with each other in the kitchen as Steve was drinking his coffee with a smile.
She had trudged into the kitchen, hair wet from her morning shower, though the hot water hadn't done much to wake her up. She drug her feet and rubbed at her eyes, not even bothering to greet the men who sent each knowing glances at her state.
"What're you doing up so early, night owl?" Sam chuckled, letting his hand fall heavily on her shoulder as she passed him.
"Stupid Fury." Her response was short, stretching up to grab her coffee mug.
In turning towards the fridge to grab her peppermint creamer her foot hooked on a stool that sat by the island. For Bucky the movement occurred in slow motion as she started to stumble to the ground, her hands reaching to grab his arm for stability. His metal arm.
Everyone in the room froze. Staring at the girl who clutched onto the man for dear life.
"Oh, thank you, Bucky," she hummed. She reached up and placed a short kiss on his cheek before patting his arm and continuing her trek towards fridge. As she opened the door and places her hand around her creamer, her name in large letters across the container, her eyes widened in realization.
She had not just done that.
Had she?
Should she apologize? Or would he be upset that she had brought more attention to the subject? Maybe she should forget it that it ever happened in the first place. Or! Or she could move past it now and apologize later. Privately. Yes. That would likely be the best move.
"Are you having trouble finding your creamer?" Steve asked with a soft laugh.
She turned around to see both Sam and Steve sending her wide smiles. She looked up to see Bucky with bright pink cheeks. His color seemed to match the warmth she felt in her own cheeks.
"Oh, it's right here." She held up the bottle. The room stayed quiet as she made her coffee. She could feel the amused stares on the back of her neck and snapped her gaze toward Sam, fixing in on him to send a hateful glare.
"You're so hateful in the morning!" He gasped with wide eyes. "Go back to bed girl. No way Fury wants to talk to you like this."
"I wish," she muttered.
Finally she left the suffocating kitchen with coffee in hand. She smacked her forehead repeatedly in frustration as she walked to her room. She should've just fell.
Throughout the day she could only think of her ignorance early that morning. She knew better than to touch him but her sleep deprived brain seemed to push all common sense out of her head.
As she walked back to her room from the gym, using a towel to wipe the sweat from the back of her neck, she caught Bucky trying to enter his own room.
"Hey, Bucky! Can I talk to you for a moment?" She hesitated to ask, her hand lingering on her door.
"Uh, sure." He answered nervously, walking over to the girl.
