Monster

Thirty-Two

The next morning, I woke to sunlight filtering through the thick trees in the yard. It was a breezy morning, and the trees waved quietly, leaving dancing shadows on the walls. Bucky's metal arm was wrapped around me. It was heavy, but I didn't want to wake him. It was the most content I'd felt in a long time, and I didn't want to ruin a rare moment of peace in two otherwise chaotic lives.

I shifted anyway. Not to get out of bed, but to roll over and face him. He still reacted instantly. His arm lifted so that it wasn't so heavy on me, and I could move more freely. I rolled onto my side and looked up at the sleepy man on my now mishapen pillow.

He looked happy. For the first time since I'd met him, he appeared entirely and utterly content. There was a light in his blue eyes. They were sleepy but relaxed. The corners of his lips were already hinting at the almost smile, but it wasn't strained or forced. Like he was preparing himself for a smile he already expected. It looked like he might have actually gotten a good night's sleep. Or at least I would have thought so if I didn't know any better.I leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips. His metal fingers gripped my shoulder gently in response.

"Does it feel more real to you now?" I asked, mostly because I wanted confirmation that I wasn't the only one who felt it. The smile appeared as easily as I expected.

"It was always real for me," he said. His hand came out from under my pillow, and he touched his knuckles to my chest, right where my heart was beating.

"Who would have thought you'd be such a cheeseball." His smile was crooked. He thought I was amusing.

"It always worked when I was younger." I laughed.

"I kind of like it. But you have to promise not to tell anyone."

I leaned into him and rested my head against his chest. I wrapped an arm around him, and then lay there for a moment. His heart was beating in a steady, relaxed pattern, and I thought about all the things he'd told me in the dark during the night. Some good things. And some not-so-good things.

But the moments between conversations, those were good. When the only sounds we'd made had been our own quick breaths and the creak of the bed frame. It had been a long time since I'd woken up to warm arms and the sound of another heart beating alongside mine. It was a reminder that this was real. He was human with a heart and mind of his own. And no matter what happened, even if there was no future beyond what we shared in the night, as long as that heart kept beating, I'd want him to be safe.

I didn't think it was love, and it was pointless to hope for something so permanent in something so fleeting. But I almost wanted it to be. Love was messy and complicated, and our lives were already complex enough as it was. But it was easier to keep moving forward with something like love to ground you. Even if it wasn't the romantic kind. I could love him in that way, even if I could never really have him.

"Are you hungry?" I mumbled, with my face squished against his chest.

"No," he replied. His voice rumbled low and deep in my ear.

"Are you just saying that because you don't want to get out of bed?" His cold fingers touched my bare back.

"Maybe." I looked up and smiled at his lazy expression.

"We can make breakfast."

"Or we can just stay here."

"I would like that, but I'm starving. And I'm really thirsty."

"Fine. But only if we make waffles again. I think they're my favorite."

"I think you just have a sweet tooth. But we can make them if you want."