Monster

Twenty-Nine

I still couldn't sleep. I felt stupid for kissing Bucky. It wasn't the smartest thing to do in the moment. I told him nothing could come from it, and there was nothing between us. Then I'd gone and kissed him because he looked so nice in the shadows and seemed to see me down to my soul.

I was still going to blame the loneliness. I hadn't had sex in–well, a long time. And Bucky was attractive. I was most definitely attracted to him, and he'd just been sitting there half-naked in the moonlight. Maybe if he'd just worn a shirt to bed, none of this would have happened.

So I lay there clutching my pillow and still wearing a shirt with a broken strap. I was frustrated, angry with myself, and probably wouldn't have slept if I was dead. Luckily, I didn't hear anything else from Bucky's room, and I didn't have to fight myself to stay away. I sincerely hoped I hadn't scared him off. Although I wouldn't blame him if he left.

But he did promise me he'd stay the weekend, and I hoped he followed through. Provided that I could still face him in the morning without embarrassment. It was still my job to make sure he was okay. He was depending on me to be his cheerleader, at the very least. And I didn't want all that to go to waste because I stuck my tongue in his mouth.

Morning came as a relief. I hadn't gotten a full night's sleep, but I did manage to doze for a little while. And it had been blissfully dreamless. I got out of bed as soon as the sky began to grow lighter beyond the trees. I jumped right into the shower to cool my head and remind myself of the ultimate goal. The problem was that I couldn't really pinpoint what that goal was anymore. It was like Clara said; it wasn't going to last forever.

When I was done, I headed back down the hall to see if he was awake. I rehearsed several things in my mind, trying to come up with something that might break through the awkwardness. But I wasn't having much luck.

"Bucky?" I said, tapping my knuckles on the door.

"Yeah?" I didn't know if I should be relieved or worried. He didn't sneak out after all. Now I definitely had to come up with something to say.

"Can I come in?"

"Yes."

I pushed the door open and found him sitting up at the edge of the futon. He still wasn't wearing a shirt, and his hair was messy and mostly in his face. It looked like he had actually managed to get some sleep, and I instantly regretted my decision to come in. He looked beautiful first thing in the morning.

"Um...," I said as I quickly averted my eyes and absently rubbed my wrist. The daylight was making the shadows dapple across the walls. Everything felt warm, charged, and glowing. "I was thinking of making breakfast. I usually just have cereal, if I eat at all. But I also don't usually have guests. Steve never stays for breakfast. So I thought we could try to make waffles. I can show you how to use the waffle maker. It's not really an essential life skill, but my parents got it for me for Christmas and I–eat them a lot...."

I was rambling again, and he knew that. I was also looking at everything but him. At least until he stood and came to stand right in front of me. He was taller than me by almost a whole foot, so my eyeline was right above his sternum. He reached for my hand, and I almost flinched. Not because he scared me, but because I was still embarrassed about my behavior the night before.

He examined the marks on my wrist. I didn't even notice I was rubbing it. I forgot how I ended up in his bed in the first place. All I could think about was that kiss, and nothing else seemed to matter. Even now, the feel of his fingers on my skin was making my heart do a little dance in my chest.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

"It's a little sore," I told him honestly. "But it'll be fine. Why don't you take a shower and all that? Steve left his things for you. I'll meet you downstairs when you're ready."