find me

33. strangers

Tonight was the second night that Bucky and Natalie would spend in bed together in the beach house. He was hoping she'd still be awake by the time he got home. It wasn't too late, only half past nine, but all the lights were already off so as he stepped inside he made sure to be as quiet as possible. He quickly got changed in the bathroom, washed his face, and sneaked into the dark bedroom. Natalie was laying on her side, blankets messily wrapped around her body. She hummed in her sleep, her brows slightly furrowed.

The mattress dipped slightly when he sat next to her, cringing to himself as the wooden bed creaked. He had thought about her warm body next to him all day. A succulent distraction and damning temptation that was now displayed in all her splendour. It would have taken some insane level of courage, and stupidity, to pull her closer to him in that moment, because he wasn't sure he'd resist the urge to then kiss her, have her kiss him back.

Was he that insane?

Maybe.

Maybe he would have tested it, had it not been for the fact that tonight she looked uncharacteristically and unusually troubled in her sleep. And he didn't want to risk waking her up. That instinct was stronger than whatever selfish urge he might have.

He laid down on his side and smiled, his eyes shut, noticing how her perfume lingered in the air. He was tired, although not nearly as much as he had been for the past month; the day of work definitely had its strenuous effect, because he could feel his body slowly slipping into that sweet loosening that precedes a heavy sleep.

After a brief moment, and right when Bucky was about to fall into a much needed rest, Natalie abruptly shook beside him. His eyes shot open as her body started trembling and her breaths became heavy and fast. She turned on her back and began squirming, her body obviously uncomfortable. He sat up and looked over, her skin was covered in sweat and a deep frown creased her forehead. He could tell something was wrong. She was usually so peaceful, he had never seen her worried in her sleep, let alone physically distressed. He carefully took her hand in his, her palm was cold and clammy.

Yeah, something was definitely wrong.

She whimpered, the noise strained and seemingly in pain. Her head shot to one side, the muscles of her neck tensing. He slowly raked his hand through her hair, trying to soothe her, but her breaths only got quicker and heavier. Her chest was heaving, her whimpers started to get more and more desperate.

She looked scared.

His eyes turned sad as he realized she was probably having a nightmare. He knew from experience, anything that happens in your dreams feels real, and the best course of action is to always wake up. Staying in that state of fear and panic, even if fictionally made up in your head, is really damaging. Seeing images that can create fear, feeling anxiety for a prolonged period of time, all of that can really trigger your nervous system in the worst way. It's not good for your brain to stay in a state of panic or alertness for long. Waking up allows you to calm down, rationalize, understand that what you were feeling and experiencing wasn't real and that you're safe. Even if it means potentially losing sleep.

He rested his hand on her shoulder. "Nat." He whispered carefully.

She groaned, almost in a cry for help, somehow aware that something was pulling her out of that space. He gripped her shoulder a bit more tightly and shook.

"Nat, wake up." He said more loudly, his voice stern, demanding to be heard.

Her eyes shot open, frightened, she gasped as if she had been under water for minutes and immediately sat up. It took her a second to get her bearings, her gaze skirting around the room in a panic, as if to assess the presence of any dangers that might be still lurking in the darkness. He ran his hand up and down her back, calming her down.