The Winter Highlander || Bucky x Reader

Part 3

Note before reading:

You GUYS. I reached a combined 10k hits on my Wattpad and AO3 account. Thank you so much for supporting me, reading my stories and leaving comments that make me chuckle. Seriously- some of my students looked up. If only they knew.

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You swore loudly as you headed out the door dressed in paint-stained jeans, old Converse and a raincoat which largely covered up the identically paint-stained shirt you were wearing. Your wild and messy hair matched your current overworked aesthetic perfectly. You had spent two days meticulously cleaning and painting the entire ground floor, only to find out that the paint rollers you had bought could not be used in combination with the chalkboard paint you planned on covering an entire wall with. So, cursing the cold wind which seemed to want to reach freezing temperature sooner than later, you rushed through town in search of Steve's hardware store.

The pavement was slippery with remnants of frost that had settled in during the early morning. November hadn't even ended and this town seemed to be preparing itself for a winter storm already. None of the shops had items displayed outside and some had already put up their Christmas trees even though Christmas was still four weeks away.

The shop looked old like all the other shops in town, you didn't doubt it had run in Steve's family for years. The fact that you would be continuing your grandmother's work in a sense felt so needed, and you would make sure the history of her bakery would be well remembered and incorporated in the design of the coffeeshop. You had already ordered some pictures and found second hand photo frames you would use to spread the memories through the entire coffeeshop you had decided to name Tales & Tarts. You sincerely hoped the name would make people snigger as they passed your shop and would entice them to come in. But before you opened next week, there was still a lot of work to be done.

So, you entered Roger's Hardware Supplies and smiled towards the man standing behind the counter, excited to see a kind face. Your smile died quicker than Donald Trump's approval rating. To your dismay you did not see Steve behind the counter, but the brown haired grump you knew as 'Barnes'. He was leaning on the counter while he flipped through a map, seemingly searching for something, when his icy eyes shot up to yours at the sound of the bell. His hair was pulled back in a messy low bun and his long sleeved shirt sleeves were pushed up to hug his muscular upper arms snugly. You couldn't help your eyes wandering to the veins disappearing under the fabric, cursing the fact that so many good-looking men know they are good-looking. Wouldn't the world be a much nicer place if they didn't?

"Hollywood," he acknowledged gruffly, his eyes briefly dropping to your paint-stained Chuck Berry shirt, one eyebrow cocked upwards as he studied you. It was quickly becomes his signature look whenever he saw you.

"Arsehole," you replied curtly as if you were coldly acknowledging an acquaintance, quickly disappearing behind one of the shelves in search for the one which held the painting supplies. What the hell was he doing here? You very much hoped he did not work here as you expected you would have the frequent this shop several times in the next couple of days. Finding him here every time would be most unfortunate.

You quickly located the thick brushes you were going to need while you worked on something snappy to throw back at Arsehole when he would undoubtedly make some sort of scathing remark. Nothing came to mind. So, dreading every step you took towards the counter, looking at Barnes like he was the devil incarnate, you made your way over to the register.

"Find everything you need?" he asked gruffly. Hmm. No insult. Okay.

"Yeah, thanks."

"Are the Highlands treating you too harshly?" he asked as he started manually entering the prices into the very retro cash register.