Doll. // Bucky Barnes X OC

FORTY-SIX

Bucky sits at the table, mug half-forgotten, fingers drumming lightly against the ceramic. Steve leans back, calm but watchful. Sam lounges on the nearby couch, pretending to scroll but listening intently.

"I keep thinking about how to do it," Bucky starts quietly. "Where to do it, what to say... but mostly... how to make it feel... inevitable."

Steve leans forward slightly. "Inevitable? It already is. You two—you just... fit. That's the truth."

"I know," Bucky mutters, rubbing his eyes. "But 'knowing' doesn't make it easier to get on my knee and say it. There's... there's weight to it. Responsibility."

"Responsibility?" Sam asks, tilting his head. "You're asking the love of your life to spend forever with you. Isn't that... kind of the point?"

"It's more than that," Bucky says, voice tightening. "It's her. The way she makes me feel. How... normal I am with her. How like... a good person I feel when I'm with her. And I have to put that into words. In one moment."

Steve's gaze softens. "Then don't try to summarize it. Let it breathe. Let her hear it from you."

Bucky exhales sharply. "That's easy to say. But standing there, holding the box, knowing that what I say could either lift her up or... make it awkward... I have to make every word count."

Sam shakes his head. "Man... I can't do this for you. I'd be sweating bullets the whole time."

"You'll be fine," Steve says quietly. "It's not a performance. It's just... truth. And she already knows you. She trusts you."

Bucky nods slowly. "I want it to be perfect. Not... flashy. Not a show. Just... her. Just us. Just... right."

Sam tilts his head, skeptical. "Right? There's no checklist for this. You just... jump?"

"No," Bucky says. "It's not a jump. It's... a moment that has to be built. Layered. Carefully. Timing is everything."

Steve leans back. "Then don't rush it. Let it build naturally. She'll feel it."

"But what if she doesn't feel it?" Bucky asks, almost in a whisper. "What if I misread her? Misinterpret her smile, her look, her... everything?"

Steve studies him for a long moment. "Then you trust yourself. And you trust her. Because she loves you. And you... love her. That's what matters."

Bucky lets out a slow breath. "I just... I've been carrying this in my chest for months. I almost asked her before. On the rooftop. But she wasn't ready—or maybe I wasn't. I don't know. Timing wasn't right. And I... I want it to feel... like it's meant to be. That she already wants this too."

Sam finally sets his phone down. "So, you've rehearsed every word, every gesture, every look?"

"I've ran it through with the both of you and then some," Bucky replied. "And still... nothing feels enough. I don't want to fail her. Not ever."

Steve reaches across the table, resting a hand on Bucky's. "You won't fail. Not because of what you say. Not because of the words. You won't fail because this—this is real. You're real. She already knows. That's the moment."

Bucky's eyes lift to Steve, searching, almost desperate. "And if I freeze?"

"You won't," Steve says firmly. "But if you do—she'll understand. She knows you. She trusts you. It's not about a perfect line. It's about your heart."

Sam groans. "God, this is emotional. I can't. I'm literally sweating for him over here."

Bucky finally allows a small, tight smile. "I want it to feel like us. Like the rooftop that night... the quiet moments, the almost... everything we've built. I want it to feel like... inevitable."