Beyond Saving Bucky

It hurts, Steve....

Steve's POV:

The softest knock on my door pulls me from the book I'm reading—Bucky's copy of The Hobbit. I glance down at the tattered pages, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips as I carefully place a bookmark between them. The worn cover shows just how many times Bucky's thumb has traced over it, and it feels like holding a piece of him, even when he's not here. I set the book down on the nightstand and swing my legs over the side of the bed, pushing myself up. The wooden floor creaks softly under my weight as I make my way to the door, my heartbeats quickening with each step.

As I reach for the doorknob, I can't help but wonder who it might be. A check-in from Nat probably. I know she's been worried about me. But the instant I open the door, all thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind.

Olivia stands there, bathed in the warm light from the hallway. The immense happiness that hits me is overwhelming, almost knocking the breath from my lungs. She's a vision, with her hair in a lose bun, drowning in Bucky's sweats, and her eyes, those beautiful eyes, shining up at me. Her presence is like a balm to the wounds I carry, a reminder of all the good still left in this world.

"Hi," she whispers meekly, her voice barely above a breath, but it wraps around me like a warm blanket. There's something about the way she looks up at me, a mixture of shyness and vulnerability that tugs at my heartstrings.

"Hi, sweetheart," I reply, the endearment slipping from my lips as naturally as breathing. My smile is gentle, tender, meant just for her. I reach out, my hand brushing against her cheek, and the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips grounds me in a way I desperately need.

She leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as if she's savoring this connection as much as I am. When she opens them again, there's a glimmer of something unspoken, something that goes beyond words.

"Can I come in?" she asks, her voice still hushed, as if she's afraid to break the spell that hangs between us.

"Of course," I say, stepping aside to let her in, my hand instinctively finding the small of her back as she passes by me. The door clicks shut behind us, and the room seems to grow warmer, cozier, with her in it.

She turns to face me, and I can see a hint of nervousness in the way she bites her lower lip. "I didn't mean to bother you, I just..." She trails off, and I can see the emotions warring behind her eyes.

"You're never a bother, Liv," I reassure her, taking her hands in mine. "You can come to me anytime. For anything."

I watch her as she pulls her hands from mine,  awkwardly fidgeting in front of me, picking at her fingers. She's always done that when she's nervous or trying to hold herself together. It's a small, almost imperceptible gesture, but to me, it speaks volumes. Her usual grace is overshadowed by the weight she's carrying, and it tears me up inside knowing I can't lift that burden for her.

"Th...thank you for the soup, Steve. That was very sweet," she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You're welcome, sweet girl. Were you able to eat at least a little?" I ask, my tone gentle as I try to coax more from her.

"Mmhmm. Few bites." She whispers, her eyes still cast downwards, unable to meet mine. Her words are as fragile as she is right now, and it takes everything in me to keep my own emotions in check.

I take a slow step towards her, my heart aching at the sight of her so lost, so broken. Gently, I reach out and rub my thumb across her cheek, wiping away a tear that she probably didn't even realize had fallen. "Liv, I know it's difficult, but you need to..." I begin, my voice soft but firm, trying to encourage her to take care of herself, to hold on just a little longer. But before I can finish, she interrupts me, her gaze finally meeting mine, tears filling her eyes.