Flowers in the Darkest Parts: Bucky Barnes X OC

18. Divine

I wake to find myself tangled up with Bucky. My back is pressed up against him, his arms around me, hanging on to me like he's afraid to let go. I can feel his breath on the back of my neck coming out in little puffs. I smile to myself, grateful for a restful night and grateful that Bucky was able to sleep too. After last night, everyone deserved a good night's sleep.

I begin to think about the way Natasha and Wanda reacted last night, both of them so worried about my well-being. They barely know me, but they acted like I was something so special to them. Did they care about me too? Natasha said I was family and swore to have my back. Wanda was in tears, distraught because she didn't know what had come of me.

I hadn't been able to trust anyone while with HYDRA. I'd built up such a wall to protect myself because I had to. Now that I don't have to, maybe now I can start to let go. Maybe now I can try to trust again. I would be letting my guard down even more than I already have, and the thought of that terrifies me. But I've let my guard down with Bucky and he's only shown me good. There's got to be more good in this world than bad, there just has to be.

I blink the thought from my mind. I can't think about it right now. Not yet.

Bucky begins to stir and I feel him pull me in closer, pressing himself against my ass. He sighs and buries his face into my hair.

I let out a laugh, "Good morning, sleepy."

He doesn't move. "Mmhm."

I roll over to face him. He blinks at me and gives me a sleepy smile. Butterflies tickle my stomach, he's breathtaking.

"I sleep so good with you," he murmurs as he pulls me into his chest and this time I'm the one burying my head into him. He wraps his arms around me and strokes my head gently with his hand.

I take in his scent and let it fill me — fresh like a summer night's breeze. He's so warm, solid muscle, but so gentle. Anything but the monster he thinks he is. Guilt stirs inside me, how can someone who's been hurt so many times still have anything left to give? I can't leave him. I can't hurt him anymore.

There are feelings that I don't know I want to think about right now. Feelings for Bucky that have been nipping at my thoughts since I've been here. I thought he was just someone who brought me comfort, a familiar face in a sea of strangers. I thought maybe my memory of him all those years ago was glamoured — that my brain made me remember it better than it was. I thought maybe it was just something on the surface because he could make me feel things other than pain and darkness. But this is deeper. The way he looks at me, like I'm a beacon in the night. Like I'm a gift. Like I'm the drug that he desperately needs. I want this man to lay me down and unravel me. To take me for himself and keep my most vulnerable parts safe.

I think I might be falling for him.

The realization hits me like a freight train. It's too much. I sit up, not sure what I need to be feeling. Not sure of what's right.

Bucky sits up beside me, "What's wrong?"

Do I love him? Could I?

I yelled at him — about not being able to love him, but it was just a way to try to distance myself. I didn't really mean the things I said. I was afraid of what might happen if I grew too close. I told myself it was better for him, safer for him, but I was just afraid of my own emotions. I was scared.

I'm so selfish.

But now, this is different. There's something more there. I can feel it trying to let itself inside.

I scoot off the bed and start pacing. My heart pounds away in my throat. Love? Am I capable of being vulnerable enough to love, to let someone love me?