An unconventional trio

A whole weekend

Bucky's POV:

She told me a little about her family, but the realization hit today that she doesn't talk about them much. We'd had one conversation about them, and even that wasn't in detail, at least not about them. It was more about the choice they forced her to make about her future.

Earlier, I watched her throw an envelope from her mother in the trash can without even opening it. I wanted to ask her why, but I didn't want to pry. I knew she'd tell me when she was ready. Nova had always been good at keeping things close to her chest, and I respected that. But today, it was different.

We stopped for lunch at a little diner we both liked. She was smiling, bouncing a little in her seat, and attempting to be her normal, adorable self. But her eyes gave her away. There was a pain there that she hadn't shown me before. It was different from the pain I'd seen when it came to her past. This ran deeper, a silent ache that seemed to linger just beneath the surface.

I couldn't shake the image of her throwing that envelope away. It gnawed at me, but I knew better than to push her. She'd tell me in her own time, in her own way.

"Bucky, you okay?" she asked, her voice light but her eyes searching mine.

"Yeah," I lied, trying to smile. "Just thinking. You sure you're alright?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?" She gave me that dazzling smile, the one that usually made everything feel right, but today it felt forced.

"I don't know, just checking," I said, reaching across the table to take her hand. "You can talk to me, you know that, right?"

Her smile softened, and for a moment, I saw a glimpse of the real her. "I know, Bucky. Thanks."

We ate in relative silence after that, the air between us filled with unspoken words. I watched her, noticing the way her eyes would cloud over when she thought I wasn't looking, the way her shoulders would tense when the conversation lulled. There was so much she wasn't telling me, and it tore at me to see her hurting.

But I knew she'd tell me in time. Whatever happened between her and her mother, it was something she needed to deal with on her own terms. For now, my curiosity would have to stay just that—a curiosity. Until she was ready, I'd be here, waiting, ready to listen when she decided to let me in.

I paid the bill, thanking the waiter as I pocketed my wallet. We walked out to the car, the warm afternoon sun casting a golden glow on her hair. I took the keys, deciding to drive. It was the best way to keep the surprise intact.

She settled into the passenger seat, a content smile playing on her lips. As we merged onto the highway, I noticed her eyelids growing heavy. It wasn't long before she succumbed to a gentle food coma, her head resting against the window.

I glanced over at her, my heart swelling with a mix of affection and protectiveness. Her brow furrowed slightly as she slept, a tiny crease forming between her eyes. I added this to my ever-growing mental list of things I adored about her.

The road stretched out before us, the rhythmic hum of the tires lulling me into a calm state. I couldn't help but steal glances at her, memorizing every little nuance. The way her lips parted slightly, the soft rise and fall of her chest, the peaceful expression that now graced her face.

With every mile, I felt more certain about my feelings for her. She was my Nova, my guiding star, and every moment with her felt like a precious gift.

She had crashed into our lives unexpectedly, like a comet blazing across the night sky. At first, I hadn't known what to make of her. She was a whirlwind, a force of nature, and I was just trying to keep up.