Fire and Ice

•59•

What is he going to do? What on earth is he going to do?

He was excited to see Kate, excited to watch the sunrise, as tired as he was. He was excited to eat pancakes, once he saw them. He didn't expect them.

There were so many things he didn't expect.

He didn't expect Kate's hair to be down, reaching past her shoulder blades, a curtain of orange shining in the early morning light as the sun came up. He didn't expect to watch her more than the sun, the rise and fall of her chest, the peaceful expression on her face as her hands reached out, dancing in sunbeams. He wanted to grab her hand, he wanted to take it in his and tell her how much he loved it even if she didn't.

He didn't expect to think the word 'love.'

Were her eyes always that pretty? Were her lips always that pink, were they always smiling that softly? Were her freckles always like a hundred little constellations? Did her voice always sound like that, like a song, like a jolt to his heart?

He looked away quickly, tore his eyes from her face so she wouldn't see him looking, afraid she would see it written on his face, in big, bold letters right across his forehead: LOVE.

He was in love with Kate Carson. He is in love with Kate Carson.

He kept joking with her, hearing that wonderful, beautiful laugh, trying to convince himself that he was wrong, a wrong, sentimental fool. She told him she didn't think she was a monster anymore, and hope rose in his chest, lifted him up, pushed his heart in his throat. Words poured out of him, but he tried not to say too much. He tried to joke to stop himself.

And then she grabbed his hand and it was over. He knew. His heart jumped out of his chest, electricity shot up his arm, his skin buzzed where she touched him. She squeezed his hand. He squeezed hers back. She wanted him there, talked like she needed him there. How could she need him? What had he done for her? Aside from the time he tried to help her in the Border Tribe, when she was crying, when he listened to her talk about Ryan.

And Ryan. They were engaged, she's still thinking about him, what, does think he's gonna replace him? A man like that? Kate needed him. She doesn't need Bucky.

And Bucky needs her. Not to help him, not to fix him, he just needs her. And he can't.

What is he going to do? He should've known this was coming, with how much he thinks about her. But now that it's here, now that he knows, what is he going to do? How can he tell her? With everything she's been through, with everything she's going through, how can he tell her?

He sits across from her now, looking at notes on his new arm, waiting for Shuri to get there. She's talking to her mother or something. His mind has been racing too much to pay full attention.

"You okay?" Kate's voice jolts him out of his thoughts.

"Ye-Yeah," he stutters. "I'm fine. I'm good."

She walks around the table to him, eyes warm, hand on his shoulder warm — her hand is on his shoulder. "Don't be nervous," she says. "Shuri knows what she's doing."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm not nervous." She walks back around the table, pulling her hand away, and his shoulder feels cold in her wake. He refrains from asking her to come back.