THE CHAIN, B. Barnes daughter

24. weird-o

Seven my little artist 🤩💪 GUYS I FEEL LIKE THE END IS AWKWARD. BUT I WROTE IT CUS IT REMINDED ME OF THE SCENE IF GIFTED

BUCKY HAD BEEN TRYING TO FIND WAYS for Seven to explore her interests and discover new hobbies. He barely remembered how, when he was young, finding creative outlets had helped him cope with difficult times. So, he decided to surprise Seven with something special.

"Sev, can you come here for a minute?" Bucky called from the living room.

Seven appeared from her bedroom, curiosity in her eyes. "What is it, Papa?"

Bucky smiled, holding out a set of paints, brushes, and a few canvases. "I thought you might like to try painting. It's something new to explore, and it can be really fun and relaxing."

Seven's eyes lit up with excitement and surprise. "Really? For me?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Bucky replied, his heart warming at her enthusiasm. "I thought it might be something you'd enjoy."

Seven took the supplies from him, her fingers running over the brushes and paints. "Thank you, Papa! I've never painted before, but I'd love to try."

Bucky set up a small table by the window where the light was best, and they spent the afternoon together, Seven experimenting with the paints and Bucky offering gentle encouragement. At first, she was tentative, unsure of where to start, but as she dipped her brush into the vibrant colors and let it glide across the canvas, she began to lose herself in the process.

She painted simple things at first—a flower, a tree, the sky—but with each stroke, her confidence grew. Bucky watched with pride as her talent emerged, her natural ability shining through.

"Papa, look at this!" Seven exclaimed, holding up her latest creation, a beautiful landscape with rolling hills and a brilliant sunset.

Bucky's eyes widened in amazement. "Sev, that's incredible. You're really talented."

Seven blushed, a pleased smile spreading across her face. "Thanks, Papa. I didn't know I could do this."

"You're a natural," Bucky said, pulling her into a hug. "I'm so proud of you, Sev."

As the days turned into weeks, painting became a cherished part of their routine. Seven would spend hours at the little table by the window, lost in her art, creating beautiful pieces that filled their home with color and life. It was a soothing escape for her, a way to express herself and process her emotions.

One evening, as the sun set and cast a golden glow over the room, Seven sat with Bucky on the couch, her latest painting drying on the table. She leaned her head on his shoulder, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

"Papa, I like painting," she said softly. "It makes me feel so happy."

Bucky smiled. "I'm glad, Sev. You're really talented, and I love seeing you so happy."

"Thank you for getting me the paints," Seven said, looking up at him with a grateful smile. "It's the best gift ever."

Bucky smiled, his heart swelling with love for his daughter. "You're welcome, sweetheart. You deserve to have something that brings you joy."

BUCKY STOOD AT THE FENCE, chatting with their elderly neighbor, Mrs. Petrescu. It had become a pleasant routine, sharing a few words and keeping up appearances. Meanwhile, Seven was just a few yards away, sitting on a blanket with her painting supplies spread out around her. She was working on a new piece, a vibrant meadow filled with wildflowers.