1. Stranger

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«Mom, want to tell me why we have a stranger in our living room?" You shouted as you stomped your feet to stop your speed.

The man was tall with broad shoulders. He was wearing a leather jacket, gloves and dark blue jeans. From where you were standing, he looked like a thief. If you didn't know better, this could've been a robbery. Whoever your mom was speaking to was dressed as a bad guy. Both turned around at the sound of your voice. You frowned. You recognise the face of the man.

"Why does he look like the grandson of grandma's old lover?" You asked even more confused, not even bothering over how forward and rude it came across.

He had the same blue eyes, or you always imagined them blue. All the pictures from your grandmother's time were in black and white. The gentleman in the pictures however had a kind and warm grace over his face, whoever this was... did not.

"My darling this is-" your mother began before the man interrupted, stepping forward towards you.

"My name is James Bucky Barnes," he said, reaching his hand out to you.

The guy had a slight smile on his lips, as you shook his hand. He quickly looked you up and down, but not fast enough for you to not notice. He leaned down to your ear, as it was supposed to look like a hug.

"And I'm not your grandmother's lover grandson... I am the gentleman from the pictures," he said amused.

You immediately took a step back, now it was your turn to look him up and down. It was an understatement saying you were confused. It was a fair amount of shock behind your face. You tried to smile, but it was fair to say that you were doing a high amount of calculations in your head. If he was the same guy in those pictures, it meant he was over 100 years old. Your mother sensed your confusion and stepped up beside him.

"James here contacted me a while ago, he's had a complicated past and wished to see the house in some comfort of his memories," She explained, looking in between the two of you.

God, you were glad you didn't live here anymore. You nodded, even if you didn't truly register any of her words. It was too strange. You pointed at the door and grabbed your bag, alluding that it was your time to leave. Your mother nodded. It was like you had your secret language. It wasn't like you were close, but you still understood each other. You couldn't wait to get home, as you could feel your headache grow. You opened the door, when you heard your mother speak.

"And also, Y/n, your grandmother was very loyal to your grandfather, James and your grandmother were like you and your brother," She explained.

You turned around looking over at them, lifting your eyebrows. Your mother wasn't the smartest one in the shelf, but you would let her have her fantasy of her parents' relationship. It was no need for you to break that illusion. You looked up at James who smiled blindly towards you. Huh, you know a fuck boy when you see one, from this century or another. You look back up at your mother with a pressing smile.

"Say goodbye to dad from me," you said and closed the door.

Bucky laughed low, he understood what you meant with that last remark. He looked down at your mother, then the door again.

"What a lovely daughter you have," he said.

"She is stubborn, but she does have a good heart," your mother said.

Exactly like her grandmother, Bucky thought to himself. 

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