Bucky's Anchor

Chapter 20 - Heartfelt Confessions

It had been a few days since our conversation at the safe house. Bucky was still quiet, still haunted by everything that had happened, but there were moments where I could see glimpses of the man he used to be. The man he was trying to become again. We had settled into a tentative routine, with Steve, Sam, and I doing our best to give Bucky the space he needed while also reminding him that he wasn't alone.

I was sitting in the corner of the cabin, flipping through an old book I found on the dusty shelf when I overheard Steve and Bucky talking in the other room. Their voices were low, but the cabin was small enough that even the quietest conversations carried through the thin walls.

"Hey, Steve," Bucky started, his tone hesitant, almost nervous. "Can I ask you something?"

There was a pause, and I could almost picture Steve raising an eyebrow, waiting for Bucky to continue. "Of course," Steve replied. "You can ask me anything, you know that."

"Yeah, I know," Bucky muttered, sounding almost embarrassed. "It's just... how do people ask someone out in this time? You know, like... go steady."

I nearly dropped my book, my heart skipping a beat. Did I just hear that right? I glanced up, half expecting one of them to peek into the room and realize I'd overheard them. But they kept talking, oblivious to my presence.

Steve let out a soft chuckle. "Bucky, you're not planning on asking someone out, are you?" His voice was teasing but warm, like an older brother giving his sibling a hard time.

There was a long pause before Bucky replied, and his voice was quieter, more uncertain than I'd ever heard it. "I was thinking about it," he admitted. "I mean... if she'd even want to. After everything."

I held my breath, my heart pounding in my chest. Was he talking about me? No, it couldn't be... could it?

"Well," Steve said slowly, as if carefully choosing his words. "I think in this time, it's a bit more straightforward than it used to be. You just... ask. Be honest. You don't need to use phrases like 'go steady,' though." I could hear the smile in his voice. "Just tell her how you feel. And if she feels the same way, then great. If not, well... at least you'll know."

"Right," Bucky muttered. "Just... tell her."

There was another pause, and I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks. I knew I shouldn't be eavesdropping, but it wasn't like I could leave the cabin without making it obvious. So I stayed put, listening to the silence that hung heavy in the air.

"You like her, don't you?" Steve asked, his voice softer now, more serious.

"I do," Bucky confessed. "I just... I don't know if it's the right time. Or if I deserve to even think about something like that."

"Buck," Steve sighed. "You deserve to be happy. You've been through hell and back. And if this is something that makes you feel even a little bit of that happiness, then you should go for it."

I felt my breath hitch. It was rare to hear Bucky talk about his feelings, especially when they involved the possibility of a future, something hopeful. It made my heart ache, knowing how hard this must be for him, how much he probably struggled with the idea of deserving any kind of normalcy.

"I just... I don't want to mess it up," Bucky said quietly. "She means a lot to me. More than she probably realizes."

I couldn't listen anymore. Not because I didn't want to, but because I felt like I was intruding on a moment that wasn't meant for me. I got up, careful not to make any noise, and moved to the small kitchen area, busying myself with making some tea. My hands shook slightly as I filled the kettle with water.

My mind was racing, thoughts tumbling over each other. Did Bucky really feel that way about me? And if he did, what did that mean for us, especially now?

I heard footsteps approaching and quickly turned my back to the door, trying to look casual. When I felt someone standing in the doorway, I glanced over my shoulder. It was Bucky.

"Hey," he said, his voice a little uncertain.

"Hey," I replied, giving him a small smile. "Tea?"

He nodded, leaning against the doorframe. He seemed like he wanted to say something more, but the words got caught somewhere between his thoughts and his mouth. I waited, not wanting to push him.

"Can we... talk?" he finally asked, his eyes meeting mine.

"Of course," I said, setting the kettle down. My heart was thudding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

He took a deep breath and stepped into the room, running a hand through his hair. "I, uh... I was talking to Steve, and..." He trailed off, clearly struggling to find the right words.

I watched him, waiting patiently. He looked up at me, his eyes full of that vulnerability I'd come to recognize, the part of him that was still figuring out who he was and what he wanted.

"I wanted to ask you something," he said finally. "But I... I'm not really good at this."

"At what?" I asked softly.

"This," he gestured between us. "Talking. Feeling... things. Being normal, I guess."

"Bucky," I said gently, stepping closer. "You don't have to be 'good' at this. Just... say what you want to say."

He swallowed hard, nodding. "Right," he muttered. "Okay."

He took another breath and then, finally, the words tumbled out. "I wanted to ask if you'd... want to spend some time with me. Just the two of us. Like... a date, I guess."

I felt my heart skip again. I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling too widely. He looked so nervous, like he was expecting me to turn him down on the spot.

"Bucky," I said softly, reaching out to take his hand. "I would love that."

His eyes widened slightly, as if he hadn't expected me to actually say yes. "You would?" he asked, sounding almost disbelieving.

I nodded. "Yeah, I would."

A small smile crept onto his lips, the first genuine smile I'd seen in a while. He let out a breath he'd been holding and nodded. "Okay," he said, his voice a bit more steady now. "Okay, then."

We stood there for a moment, just looking at each other. I felt a warmth spread through me, a glimmer of hope in the midst of everything. This wasn't a grand gesture, but it didn't need to be. It was real, and it was us.

"I'll make us dinner," I offered, trying to lighten the mood.

He nodded again, the smile still on his face. "That sounds... really nice."

I turned back to the kettle, trying to hide my own smile. It wasn't much, but it was a start. And in the middle of all the chaos, it was a moment of normalcy that we both needed.

Bucky walked over, standing beside me. He reached for the kettle, his hand brushing against mine. It was such a simple touch, but it felt like a promise. A promise that maybe, just maybe, we could find something good in the midst of all the darkness.

And for now, that was enough.