𝐈 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 | ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉᵈ

𝐈 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝑩𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒔, 𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒂 𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒇𝒇, 𝒀𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒂 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒂, 𝑺𝒂𝒎 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒔𝒐𝒏, 𝑪𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒕 𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒐𝒏
𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒: 𝑩𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒔/𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒂 𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒇𝒇, 𝑩𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒔 & 𝒀𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒂 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒂, 𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒂 𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒇𝒇 & 𝒀𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒂 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒂
𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄: 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝑬𝒏𝒅𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝟑𝟒𝟒𝟐
𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃: 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐
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𝐀/𝐍: 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭! 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭! (𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡 𝐡𝐚𝐡𝐚❤️)

｡ﾟ✪:⧗ﾟ.

I try to imagine my life without her...

"What are you thinking about?" Her voice broke the silence in the room, and a sudden warmth spread through Bucky's chest. He ran his fingertips over her bare shoulder, taking his time answering. He could feel the heat of her skin, and after those unimaginably long days, he was finally enjoying her closeness with everything. He wanted nothing more than to remain forever in her presence, only to lie beside her, quietly thanking for being able to hold her in his arms.

"I don't think you want to know. My mind is a dark place," he answered vaguely, looking up at the dark ceiling. The blanket rustled as the girl turned over and her silhouette rose above his chest.

"Tell me," she urged eagerly, her long hair tickling his bare chest. He slid his hand down her back and ran his fingers along the curve of her spine. "James," she said urgently when it didn't look like he was going to answer her, and she shivered under his touch.

He sighed and glanced down at her face. Even in the darkness, he could see her eyes glowing. He smiled, though she couldn't see it, and raised his hand to gently stroke her cheek with his knuckles. "I'm thinking about what we talked about last time," he whispered, running his index finger along the line of her cheekbone. "That we're going to run away together." His thumb circled her full lips and he longed to kiss them. It had been an eternity since he had last kissed her. As if sensing what was going through his mind, she bent and pressed her lips to his. Her kisses tasted like a bittersweet promise. His thoughts scattered in all directions, and he had no chance to catch them. Whenever she kissed him, he felt as if he was coming home. His home wasn't Russia, it wasn't the Red Room, it was her. Until she appeared, he hadn't the faintest idea where he belonged, where in the world his place really was. But now he knew. And there was nothing else for him but her. Everything else was petty, unimportant. She was his anchor, his certainty, the last straw of grass he held. And he knew that if it broke free, his world would fall apart.

Her hair brushed his cheek, sliding down her cheek as she pressed gently against his hot lips. He cupped her face in his hands and gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. A fierce heat burned in his chest, warming him on the cold nights he spent alone in his room, growing stronger with each thought of her, along with the boundless love whose great waves shattered against the rocks of pain in the raging ocean of desire. She was a fire; which warmed and destroyed pleasantly. She was a storm; he wished she would swallow him into her whirlpool. She was a raging ocean; he would gladly plunge into her waves and drown. She was his pain. She was his healing. She was a siren. She was an eternity. She was his life.