Your Ivy Grows

Chapter 34

Bucky

He's still smiling down at her like an idiot when he sees it, the barest flicker of panic in her eyes. Here it comes, the inevitable moment her walls go back up. Her eyes are easy to get lost in when they're like this, unguarded. The swirls of blue and green are hypnotising; drawing him in. But they're losing their spark, dimming again, and he hates it. His cock is still buried inside her, and yet she's likely already planning her escape.

This is why he turned her over; he couldn't bring himself to continue to fuck her like that; pretending they were nothing. Because it isn't fucking true. Why else would her walls crumble to fucking pieces whenever he touches her? When they're together like this, her walls become fragile glass that shatters under his touch. He sees it in her eyes when he's fucking her—she's there with him. She's open, she's vulnerable. But she'll retreat again; she always does.

Summoning what little courage he has, he dips his head to give her one last kiss before collapsing beside her on the bed. The desire to keep her with him rears up stronger than ever before; it has him reaching for her. As he pulls her against him, he waits expectantly for her to stiffen in his arms—assuming she'll think of some excuse to extricate herself from his hold and leave him here alone. But she surprises him. Her body doesn't tense up, she softens. She melts into him, resting her head on his shoulder and cuddling into his side.

Peace. For the first time in a long time, he feels it. It's like he's spent his whole life missing this. His fingers trace patterns up and down her arm, relishing the feel of her soft skin beneath his rough fingertips.

"You win." Alexis' voice cuts through the silence, and he dips his chin down so he can look at her. "We're something."

Two words that say very little while also saying everything. Fuck, coming from her, it may as well be an hour-long speech. She's yet to look up at him. Baby steps, he reminds himself.

"Something, huh?" He says, keeping his tone as casual as possible. Bringing his hand to her face, he holds her chin delicately while reaching his thumb up to swipe over her full bottom lip once. Twice. Then he tilts her head back until she's looking up at him as he tries to dampen the smile that wants to break out on his face. He's not successful.

"Yes, Barnes, something."

"I'll take it. It's much preferable to you telling me we're fucking nothing." He's teasing her, that smile still on his face.

"I hope you know I had no idea what that night was in honour of before that ridiculous speech. John didn't tell me. He'd have had to drag me there kicking and screaming if I'd known."

"I know." He pauses, trying to figure out how much to say to her. "At least I do now. It just took me by surprise; I didn't handle it well."

Quite the understatement. He'd stormed out of that hall in a jealous rage, then confronted her in that alley like an asshole before, according to Sam, leaving her there to cry. The shame settles over him once again and he grips her a little tighter to him.

"But after I left that night, it didn't take me long to realise that you'd never have let me walk into that party without warning me if you'd had any idea what it was for."

"I didn't exactly handle it well either. When you found me in that alley—" She stops speaking, chewing on her lip and drawing his attention down to her mouth. "Let's just say you couldn't have found me at a worse time. I was upset and angry and I took it out on you when I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."

He can't even hide his surprise at those words. Does he even deserve them? And to think he thought she'd come here to chew him out.

"I'm sorry too. I said shit I didn't mean out of anger as well. Fuck, let's call it what it was—I was jealous. And you're right, he's your husband and I have no fucking right to be jealous but I am. Standing there, having to watch him touch you, watch him kiss you—" Bucky cuts off, his mind suddenly flooded with images of that kiss.