Thanks for the memories we've yet to create: #JUN2K16

thx fr the mmrs

  "Wow, Buck. This is beautiful..." Steve's soft voice floated through the twilight air, barely reaching Bucky's ears before being lost in the crisp wind gently floating through the small meadow they were standing in.

   The warm, late afternoon sunlight caressed the tree-encased field and dusted across the tall grass, staining everything with a soft orange glow and casting subtle shadows that danced in and out of trees with fairy-like grace. The low gurgle of a small brook intermixed with chitters and rustles from small wildlife to form a pleasant sound Bucky could only describe as Home.

   He had spent most of his childhood hidden away in this meadow, tucked inside a book, sleeping under the shade of an oak tree, daydreaming up at the clouds. His mother used to bring him and his dad to the meadow for picnics where they would reminisce back to their past and Bucky would roll around in the grass or catch lizards sunbathing on the wet rocks by the brook.

   This meadow was shrouded in memory, the shadows tinted with lingering traces of Bucky's past, his emotions leaving an almost tangible trail, leading back throughout the years. The bubbly laughter as he galloped through the grass as a small boy still bounced around, the angry tears he shed when his first relationship crashed and burned still fell with every rain, the surprised gasp his sister had made when he showed her the meadow for the first time still echoed around. Sometimes, if Bucky listened hard enough, he could almost hear his parent's laughter as they spent countless lazy afternoons together, lounging around in the sun.

   "My mom and dad used to come here when they were dating." Bucky said, looking away from the quiet meadow to glance at Steve. Steve's face was filled with wonder, his eyes wide as they took in the beauty before him. Bucky knew, without having to look, that his fingers would be twitching slightly, itching to curl around his pencils and capture the meadow's magic on paper.

   Bucky smiled and reached out to grab Steve's hand, needing the familiarity to ground himself, to steady his tangled nerves. He took a shaky breath and continued.

   "One day my mom brought my dad here, and she told him it was just a regular date. They had dinner together. My mom even packed a bottle of fancy wine. They spent the evening talking and relaxing until the sun started to go down, and then they just sat in silence and watched the sunset through the trees. At the last moment, just as the sun sank behind the horizon for the night, she grabbed my father's hand and said-"

   Bucky paused and looked into Steve's eyes, smiling nervously. Steve smiled back at him in slight confusion and gently squeezed the hand Bucky still had wrapped around his own. Bucky nodded and, taking care not mumble or hide away from Steve's intelligent eyes that Bucky was 76% sure already knew exactly what was happening, he restarted his story.

   "She told him, 'You are my love, you are my heart, my soul. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be your love, heart, and soul. You are my home and I want to be yours. Will you marry me?"

   As Bucky was talking he had reached into his pockets, digging around for the small black box that had been burning a hole through his denim jeans for the better part of the day. Now his shaking fingers drug out the box and he sank to one knee, still holding Steve's hand.

   "Steve," Bucky began in a thankfully steady voice, "I love you. You are the air I breathe, you are the sole thing that keeps me going, you hold my heart, you have for years now. You are my soul, my home. Steve, let me be your love, heart, soul and home. Will you marry me?"

   Bucky stared up at Steve expectantly, waiting for the life-altering answer with his breath held and his fingers clenched around the ring box tight enough to dent. The seconds stretched endlessly as Steve struggled to bite back a sob. There were tears sliding down his cheeks and he was smiling. Eventually he gave up trying to speak and he nodded his head rapidly, shaking his hair into his face. He kept nodding, even as Bucky sprang up to wrap him in his arms. They were both crying now, with happy, stupid smiles plastered to their faces.

   "Really?" Bucky said, not quite believing him. Steve just laughed and pulled away to look Bucky in the eyes. "I'm with you 'till the end of the line, Buck." He said, pulling Bucky in for a kiss just as the sun sank behind tree line, leaving them in soft darkness as the rest of the light fled from the meadow.

   Later that night, after the cold night air had forced them home, Bucky lay in Steve's arms and he knew that moment would linger on in the meadow, a reminder of true happiness, forever, just as his parent's happiness had.

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