Masquerade

13- Olives

A/n: song recommendations— Can't Help Falling in Love— by Elvis Presley, or another cover if you prefer it sung by someone else. And— In My Life— by The Beatles.
Also this is kinda written from Bucky's point of view. I don't know sorta I guess. You'll understand when you read it.
Love you all <3

—

"I still think we should've stayed in," you mumble as you anxiously look around. Bucky takes a sip of his whine— which you were surprised he drinks. "C'mon doll, we're in Italy. Let loose, enjoy your time here," he says.

"If we weren't on a mission, then yes, I could relax. But we are on a mission, and a group of people we both fear showed up out of nowhere, so no I will not enjoy my time here when all I wanna do is go home," you say.

"You're homesick. I don't blame you. I've been homesick since... well since I got my memories back. It's pretty hard living in a different decade. For the longest time I just wanted to go back to the 40's. I just wanted to go home."

"And now?"

"There's times when I still miss it, but it's less now. I wish I knew why, but it's just something I feel and have no words to describe," he says and softly smiles at you.

You stay silent, unsure of what to say. So he continues. "I know you're not talking about the compound when you say you wanna go home. You miss Slovakia," he says.

"Can we not talk about this," you rush your words and avoid making eye contact with him.

"Of course. I didn't mean to bring up such a sensitive topic. I'm sorry," he says.

Your eyes flicker to his and you look at him confused. "What's going on with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you acting weird?"

"It's just... we spend so much time hating each other that it's tiring. Maybe, if we tried, we could be friends," he says with a smile.

Before you can say anything, the waiter comes by with your food. "Grazie," Bucky says. The waiter smiles and walks away.

Bucky watches you closes as you pick at your food. You let out a soft sigh as you pick a olive up on your fork and hold it in front of your face before letting it fall back on your plate. Eyebrows knit together as you fiddle with your food and he notices that a bit of your tongue is sticking out. "Everything okay?" He asks.

"Do you like olives?" You ask and he nods. "I hate them," you say and start putting them on Bucky's plate. "Really?" He asks as he puts one in his mouth. You nod and he shakes his head. "I love olives," he says.

After dinner, you start walking back to the hotel. "The moon looks beautiful tonight," you say as you stop walking to look at the sky. Bucky looks up at the sky for a little bit until he switches his gaze to you.

The moonlight hits your face perfectly and he can't help, but think about how beautiful you look. For once he seems to really look at you. Sure he's always thought you were beyond beautiful, practically the definition of gorgeous in his eyes. But he's never actually studied your features or noticed the dimple in your cheeks when you smile.

And it hits him like a brick. The realization of everything. The reason behind the teasing and the hatred for you. The feeling that's been buried deep inside him this whole time. A feeling he has been masquerading since he first meet you. That scary four letter word that has such a huge meaning behind it. One no one can explain or put into words.

But of course he feels this way. That's the explanation he was looking for on why he was jealous. Why he felt the need to have sex with you after that man had his hands on you. He wanted to claim you as his. Why he was being friendly during dinner. Why he wants to be friends with you.

He doesn't want to say out loud. He can't. Not when he knows you don't feel the same. The percentage of being rejected or being laughed at is too high for him to even consider telling you. So for now, he'll keep it to himself.

Say it over and over again in his mind. Whisper it to you when you're asleep in the dead of the night. So only the moon and the night will know his secret. His secret no one else could know.

You smile at him and he smiles back even though every part of him just melted at your sweet smile. And then, you grab his hand in your and he swears he died. "C'mon, let's head back," you say.

And a bit of hope fills him from his feet to his heart that maybe, just maybe, you love him too.