The Fall - Book 1

189. A stór mo chroí.

Author's Note: I tried something different with the Irish...I added the pronunciation before the translation. Please let me know if you like that format or not, because I've already written a future chapter that has a fair amount of it (for multiple languages, not just Irish).

JANUARY 17, 2020 — AVENGERS COMPOUND  — RÉA

I wake some time later; even with the soft glow of the flameless candles, I can see moonlight filtering through the blinds. I stretch, making a face at the stickiness of dried lube between my legs. I slip out of Bucky's arms, careful not to disturb him, and check my phone: it's a few minutes past midnight. I pad into the en suite, quietly closing the door behind me. I grab the container of lavender-scented Epsom salt from the cabinet before entering the shower enclosure and turning on the waterfall, letting the water heat then closing the drain in the pool and adding three generous scoops of the salt.

As the pool fills, I run a brush through my hair and gather the wavy, copper strands into a top knot, then brush my teeth and wash my face. I'm drying my face with a hand towel when I hear quiet footsteps followed by the sound of the door opening. I hang the towel up, turning to see Bucky in the doorway.

"Sorry, doll. I meant to clean you up but I fell asleep not long after you did."

"It's alright, Bucky. Really." I briefly pause. "Would you like to take a bath with me?"

"Yeah, I would. That's why I came in here." He steps closer to me and tenderly cups my face, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks. "How is it you get more beautiful every time I see you?" he murmurs.

I blush, ducking my head and biting my lip even as a smile forms on my face. I look up at Bucky through my lashes, and see he's wearing the expression he does when he's about to call me cute or adorable.

"Gosh, you're cute," he says, tipping my head up and tapping my nose with a finger.

"I knew you were going to say that...you big flirt," I gently tease as I giggle softly. "C'mon, the pool's probably full now."

Like always, he lifts me into his arms and carries me to the pool. Unlike always, he sets me at one end of the pool then climbs in at the other so that he's facing me.

"I just want to see you," he says, using my words from the other night.

We both soak in the floral-scented water until our fingers are pruney, then we rinse off with the sprayer at the other end of the shower enclosure. After we're dried off and back in bed, cuddling, Bucky gently holds my chin with his right thumb and forefinger, and tilts my head up so our eyes meet.

"I need to tell you something, Réa," he says, his tone serious.

"You can tell me anything, Bucky," I reply, even as a pang of anxiety pierces me.

He nods. "I might be...I might be 'off' the next couple of days. Because...because January eighteenth, nineteen-forty five, is when I...when I fell off the train."

'Oh god...I wasn't even talking to him this time last year. He...he had to go through the anniversary of that and deal with me being...oh, Bucky....'

"I'm so, so sorry, Bucky. For last year. I should've...I should've—"

"No, Réa. No. You had enough to deal with. And I talked with Doctor Raynor, and Steve and the others texted and checked on me." He pauses. "And honestly, last year wasn't too bad. Some years are, and some aren't. This year just...something feels different. It actually didn't hit me until earlier, when I woke up and looked at my phone, and saw the date...and then this sense of dread just settled over me."