The Fluffy Adventures of Yelena and Bucky

Part 4

   A wind chime tinkled from outside on the deck as Yelena bit into her first taco. It was delicious, and she couldn't help but grin at Bucky, who gave her an "I told you so" look.

   "So," Yelena lowered her half-eaten taco. The taco ingredients were spread out across the table, and Bucky must've noticed how famished she was, because he'd pushed the food closer to her plate than his.

   "Yeah?"

   "What kind of music do you like?"

   "Oh." Bucky leaned back in his chair. He'd already eaten three tacos, insisting that it wasn't that much. "I listen to a variety of things. 80's, sometimes, older music, Imagine Dragons, Arctic Monkeys. I dabble,"

   She took a sip of her water from her dark blue glass. "No Taylor Swift?"

   "...Really? I hope you're not one of those crazy Swifties. I'm not saying that they all are, but... You know what I mean."

   She barked a laugh, her nose scrunching adorably as she grinned. "That was a good save, but seriously. You didn't answer."

   "Eh. It's rare. Extremely rare. Not my cup of tea,"

   "Coffee."

   "What?"

   "Don't you drink coffee more?"

   He laughed. "Technically, yes. But hot chocolate is better than both anyway."

   "Then why is there no hot chocolate in your cupboards?" she leaned forward and narrowed her eyes suspiciously, as if Bucky was a convict she was interrogating.

   His cheeks and nose flushed red with embarrassment , his mouth twitching into a smile. "Maybe I drank it all, Belova. And you searched my cupboards? What the actual heck..." he shook his head, exasperated.

   "It's plausible, Barnes." She took another bite. 

   "Which? Going through the kitchen, or me drinking a lot of hot chocolate?"

   "Hehe. I don't think I'll tell you."

   "Okay then, keep your secrets." Bucky grabbed a tortilla and started to pile it with ingreidents. "How many will you eat?" Yelena asked. He shrugged. 

   He eats a lot, she thought. After being deprived of normal food (she was sure he was) when he was with Hydra, she was sure that he savored every last bite he took. It showed in his eyes, when she looked for it.

   "What kind of food did you eat in Siberia?" The question slipped from her mouth carefreelly, as if there was not even one traumatic experience linked to it. 

   The blue of his irises darkened, and he set his taco down his black porcelain plate. He took a drink of water, then looked her in the eyes. "Not... Not much."

   She gulped, not sure what that meant, but it sounded awful, if not by the actual words then by the tone of his voice. He didn't want to talk about it. Not now, not ever. Yelena didn't want to know what the substitution for food was, and she was starting to regret asking such a question.

   "I'm... I'm sorry. I never should've asked." 

   Bucky's eyes flashed at her as they broke eye contact, and he pressed his lips together tightly. "'T's alright,"

   "Not really," she said, but they both fell silent. She wasn't sure where the sorry had come from. She wasn't sure where any of this had come from.