Bucky Egan returns from war, without a plan or a place to go but he's home. At least that's what everyone keeps telling him, "be grateful, buck up, smile son, you're alive!"
But he doesn't believe that, until he meets Mabel and everything changes.
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"I like your smile, Mabel." Bucky's lips curled to the side and her breath hitched at the sight of him. Blue eyes so dark she had mistaken them for brown at first but as the light caught them she realized they were the color of the sky right before a thunderstorm.
"You don't need to use flattery, Major. You already got your whiskey." She teased.
"A man can always use more whiskey," he hummed at her and took another sip, the lights above reflected in his eyes and looked like little streaks of lightning. "And a pretty woman can always stand more flattery," he added, his tone low and husky.
It made her cheeks flush with color and she looked away from him to find her resolve and steady her racing heart. When Mabel looked back he had the cup to his lips still and he was staring up at her from the bartop with curious intent in his eyes. He knew that he was under her skin, dare say he was proud of himself for being so.
"So you spent three years over there?" She asked him, breath still slow and eyes locked on him. He had been the first interesting person to walk into the diner in months. His goofy smile and attentive blue eyes followed her wherever she went.
"Sure did," he raised his eyebrow and sipped the coffee, "glad to be home."
He lied and Mabel could see it in the way his face fell a little when he said it. The color drained from his high sharp cheekbones and muscles flexed tightly in his cut jaw. She knew the war wasn't glamorous, and by all means, she was aware of how dangerous it had been.
Mabel had seen a lot of the guys that came home, and how messed up they were stepping back onto American soil. She'd never catch herself dead dating one, not a pilot, or soldier. They were too sad, too jaded, and had hairpin tempers. No matter how pretty Major Bucky may have been. And God damn was he pretty.
"You don't sound convinced, Major." She hummed at him and grabbed a plate from the warmer, walking down to the apple pie and grabbing him a slice. "Here, eat something before that whiskey goes to your legs."
"Anyone ever told you that you're kind of mouthy?" Bucky smiled at her, showing that toothy grin and she set the plate down in front of him.
"Has anyone ever told you that, you're kind of mouthy?" Mabel smiled back at him and for a second she thought she might get scolded. The men liked to do that, treating women like children sometimes or worse like property but Bucky's eyes crinkled and his smile widened as laughter poured from her loud and light.
"More than you know Miss." Disconnect flickered behind his eyes when he spoke like his thoughts had wandered off somewhere out of reach.
"Do you want ice cream?" Mabel asked him, tugging on his focus as his eyes flickered back to hers.
"Vanilla?" He smirked at her and the divets in his cheek returned. "Please," his voice was husky and deep when he pushed the plate back toward Mabel. "It's been a long time since I was treated to such."