It's all fucked up and it's falling apart.
Laying on the soft bed in Bucky's small apartment, my head was starting to clear. He had taken off my shirt and bra, to wrap me from my chest to my hips. Hawk was resting on a long, dark blue couch, wrapped in gauze from his ribs to his hips. Standing in the doorway, i saw Bucky. He had a cigarette between his lips, but when he saw me looking, he gently took it out of his mouth and pressed it against the palm of his left hand. He walked over to me and pressed his soft lips against my neck. My whole body was freezing cold, despite the heat being on, but his lips were warm, and so was the hand that he placed on my forehead.
"I think you might have a fever, but other than that, your wounds are healing well." he said softly, kneeling at the side of the bed. He gently put his hand down on my stomach. I flinched with pain, but the icy metal of his arm felt good after a second. The warmth of his body felt like home, and for a second, the last three days seemed to vanish. He smelled good too; like cologne and some sort of hard liquor, which i placed as the bottle of Hennessy on a far table.
2hrs Later-
I had taken a nap, and i woke up to a cup of hot tea and some food. He was taking care of me surprisingly well, especially since for the longest time i thought he would've killed me with his own hands. Hawk was asleep, and he looked so sweet and peaceful. Bucky was also asleep in a chair next to the bed. I gently reached over and shook his leg. He sat up and smiled at me, then leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. As he did, his hair fell down onto my face. I laughed softly at him, and he smiled again, but bigger this time. Then, he leaned over farther, hardly touching his lips onto mine. I put my hand on the back of his head and pushed it down, connecting his lips with mine.
Home at last.
