The Greatest Bastard || Bucky Barnes x OC

The Rooftop

🎵True Blue - boygenius🎵

"...I think blue" She mumbled.

"Blue? Blue is your favorite color?" Bucky chuckled.

"What? What's wrong with blue?" Simone scrunched her face up, her tone still playful.

"Nothing! No, blue is beautiful" He smiled up at her. "It's...very regal. Suits you." He spoke under his breath.

Simone had grown to really appreciate days like this. They felt so close to normal that, for the few hours that they had managed to slot away for themselves, in some far away existence it might've been a whole life. Just like this, on opposite ends of Bucky's couch. She'd read a book, or look over some of his sketches, or listen to the music that played in the back and drink some coffee. It was of course, a secret of hers, that she didn't even really care for coffee. But her heart would melt at the way Bucky had it prepared just for them each time she arrived, that she couldn't find it in herself to say no. And besides, drinking it reminded her of him. The way he smelled, the way he tasted, even how warm he was.

Bucky would usually draw, or doodle, or sort out his old works. Sometimes he'd stumble across something he thought would be sellable, or something he thought he should donate. Sometimes they'd just lay lazily against each other, legs tangled beneath the sheets, smoke whirling in the air, whispering between kisses and lingering touches.

"But it's gotta be the right blue. Like...blue hydrangeas!" Simone mumbled. "My mother used to have an enormous bush of them in the yard" She sighed. Bucky watched her intently, seeing how the memory tore at something inside of her, making her eyes carry that distant and longing look.

"You know they're not actually blue, right?" He chuckled.

Simone looked at him confused, her cheek resting in her hand.

"They just...look that way because of the light. Few things in nature are actually a true blue. It's the rarest color." He explained casually.

It made Simone smile. She cherished the moments where she got to see a piece of the artist in him. In the way he would talk to himself about where to put a shadow as he was painting, or the way he carefully placed each little glass in the windowsill so that the colors would reflect to his liking against the floorboards, or the way he explained something so simple as the color blue.

"I didn't know that..." Simone whispered, smiling to herself as her heart swelled.

Stop it.

Stop it.

The little voice in the back of her head that she so often silenced had fought its way through. This was dangerous. And incredibly stupid. She shouldn't be–

"Simone?" He nudged her lightly.

She must've zoned out.

"Hmm?" She flicked her eyes up, meeting his slightly concerned gaze.

"You okay?" He asked carefully, a nervous smile resting on his lips.

"Ye-yeah, of course," She smiled. But Bucky wasn't fooled. He rarely was when it came to her.

He stared at her with that knowing look on his face.

Simone felt like she was being peeled open. She might be able to hide from herself, but she couldn't hide from him. She still wasn't quite sure how that worked.

"I just..." She began, hoping that any reasonable excuse would follow quickly enough for her to successfully brush it off. Change the subject. Distract him.