Saving Bucky (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

*Chapter 57 - Focus*

Your back is cold. That skin between your shoulder blades likely icy to the touch. But your cheeks are hot. Your chest. Your legs. All comfortably snug and shielded from the frigid air beyond your blanket. Something else warm mere inches away. You lean into it, eager to get away from the chill on your back when small puffs of air on your cheek stir your lashes. They flutter open, and you spot two bright blue eyes gazing into your own. 

For a moment, you don't recognize them. 

"G'morning princess," a low voice  hums as those blue eyes simply look at you. 

Confused for only a moment, you quickly realize it's not just James looking at you, but it's...Bucky. The Bucky from the old video reel. Gone are the stress lines in his forehead, and the dark bags that had been a permanent fixture since you had met are lightened considerably - nearly vanished. In their place are small wrinkles you've never noticed before. They sit in the corner of his eyes, and grow even more pronounced as he smiles the way that black and white soldier had.

Your breath catches as something inside your chest stumbles. You can't help the matching smile that dances on your own face. And suddenly you no longer feel the cold at your back. You can't. Not with how warmly James gazes down at you. 

He leans in, resting his forehead against your own. 

"How'd you sleep?" he asks, his voice deeper than normal and rough on the sides as leftover traces of sleep stay stuck in his throat. 

"Decent," you tease lightly tipping up your chin to let your noses rest against each other in a tender caress. 

"Just 'decent'?" James returns with a playful growl. "If that's the case I didn't do my job right," he says, a metal hand sneaking beneath the shared blanket to run light fingers up and down your side. But the cool touch of his metal hand suddenly brings everything back from the night before. And you remember the sleepy words that had slipped out. Your breathing stutters, and your smile falters. 

"Y/n?" James asks, pulling back only far enough to see your face clearly as he senses the change in your demeanor. His tender touch on your side disappears as he props himself up slightly. "What's wrong?"

You look up, but find that the second your eyes find his, your words disappear. James frowns and reaches for your cheek, but you move quickly and sit upright, clutching the blanket to your bare chest. 

"James...we need to talk," you say, keeping your back to the man behind you and finding it unusually difficult to face him directly. A strange ache in your chest is making it more difficult than ever to find the strength to look him in the eye. 

He lets out a concerned grunt as he pulls himself down the couch, out from around your body so that you're sitting side by side. You flinch when the warmth of his leg touches yours and stand quickly, wrapping the blanket tight around your body, ignoring that you've left him almost completely bare on the sofa with only his boxers to keep him warm. 

"You know, I've heard those words before princess," James grunts. "It's never been good."

Letting out a sigh, you take a few steps towards the glass windows that overlook the theatre's house, the stage across the way framed by those faded white and gold curtains. As your eyes flit over the decadent space below you curse yourself for your loose lips. You should have thought about what you wanted to say before blurting anything out. 

"Did I do something wrong?" James' tone has darkened. You frown at the guilt-ridden concern in his voice. "Did I...did I do something last night?" he asks from several paces behind you, still sitting on the couch. "Oh God," he says, rising to his feet. "Did I...did I hurt you?"