Saving Bucky (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Chapter 54 - Timid Touches

"Careful," James grunts as you step onto his thigh, reaching for the ledge of the window of the old abandoned theatre. You hoist yourself up, expecting the floor to be right there on the other side. But it's several feet down and you stumble, falling face first into dusty, moth-bitten red carpets.

"Ugh," you groan, spitting out the grit on your tongue as your eyes adjust to the dim light inside the hall.

James' boots land next to you in a well-balanced thud, and a warm arm helps pull you to your feet. "Graceful," he smirks, dark brown strands of hair falling into his eyes as they wrinkle at the corners.

You toss him an irritated scowl and brush the dust from your jeans. But your gaze drifts past him to the giant empty frames that line the hallway, draped in threadbare white cloth. On the floor beneath the grime, faded gold threads lie dull, lacking the shine that once ran through the rich red carpets. Out of the corner of your eye, little specks of dust float through air, and silence lays thick on the walls, like a colorless, wet paint.

"Wow," you exhale, glancing up at the paneled ceilings. "This pace is...old."

James lets out a small laugh below his breath as he subtly takes your hand in his, pulling you down the hall. Each step sends a creak through the worn floors, and the space is lit only by the fading light outside and the occasional lamp or wall sconce James flips on as you walk. You wonder how it's possible there's working electricity in the building, but keep the question on your tongue, letting it remain a mystery as you opt to ask a different question instead.

"Where are we, exactly?" you ask. The drive from the Hold had taken the entire day. You had to be somewhere on the east coast to have lost so much time.

"New Jersey," Barnes grunts.

"Lovely," you say sourly.

"It's not so bad," James says with a hidden grin.

You glance over at the soldier, intrigued by his tone. As you do, you notice his shoulders have relaxed for the first time since leaving the Hold. And he's taking deeper breaths. He's comfortable here. He must know this place.

James leads you down a side hall, taking care to bat away the cobwebs that cling to the place where the wall meets the ceiling. He guides you around a few broken floorboards, and past tall columns with long cracks running through them, stopping you just short of an archway.

"Are you ready, princess?" he asks, a glimmer of playfulness in his gaze. You can tell by the way his voice echoes here that something different lays beyond this doorway.

"Ready for what?" you ask, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

James bites his bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth as he walks backward through the archway, pulling you along with him. "To see your castle," he whispers, pulling you through into a massive marble foyer. You exhale in surprise as the worn carpets beneath your feet immediately give way to regal, dust-covered marble floors. Your gaze floats up to the tall domed ceiling covered in layers of peeling paint that at one point had to have fit together to form a masterpiece. And to the left, in the back center of the foyer, stands a grand staircase, standing sentinel in splinters. Broken steps lead up to a second story of sagging balconies. But despite the state of the place, you can easily see the magnificence as before your eyes the hall comes to live with the ghosts of the people who must have once enjoyed this place.

"It's beautiful," you exhale, finding yourself struggling for words.

"Yeah," James says, never taking his eyes from you.

You pull gently away from his grasp as you step into the center of the foyer and glance down the long halls that split off in various direction, no doubt leading to the inner house of the theatre. "I never took you for a theatre man, James," you hum.