Drawing Lessons

Cat

"Bucky?" A voice from above and behind him called out, and Bucky practically jumped out of his skin. His sneakers slammed to a halt on the concrete, and he turned around, trying to find the source of the voice. "Up here," It said.

Bucky looked up to see Steve perched in the heavy arms of an oak tree.

"Wha... I... Uh... Steve?" Bucky sputtered, trying to get a grip on reality because he had no idea why Steve was in a tree and it was really cold out and... Steve still had his coat. Bucky had nearly forgotten about that. Steve was propped up in the branches of the tree, wrapped casually up in Bucky's leather jacket that he still hadn't given back. Bucky was beginning to suspect he never would, and he was honestly okay with that.

"Why are you running?" Steve questioned, looking down at Bucky from within his tree. Bucky was suddenly overly-aware of his thin athletic pants and ragged old sweatshirt, of the sweat accumulating underneath his layers of clothing and drowning in his hair, as well as the fact that his face was probably really flushed from exertion. He put his hands on his hips and tried not to let it show that he was out of breath, his heavy breathing coming out in visible puffs in the frigid air.

"I do that sometimes." Bucky responded offhandedly, still somehow maintaining that charming aura that Steve thought followed him everywhere, even when he was sweaty and gross, "Why are you in a tree?"

"Well, yeah. I know you run. You're a runner. That's probably the only thing I knew about you before I knew you. What I mean is: why are you running now? It's so cold out." Steve tucked a graphite pencil behind his ear, pushing some of his messy blonde hair out of his face in once fluid motion. He hadn't even responded to Bucky's question, but just smiled a little smile as he stretched his left leg out to reach a distant limb of the tree.

"I don't know... It just feels good." Bucky answered, flustered and still a bit caught off guard by the sudden encounter, "And again: why are you in a tree? And why haven't you given me my jacket back yet?"

"Relax, I mean to give it to you every time I see you... I just don't ever do it. And I like being up in trees. They're nice. Plus, there's a cat up here, and I like drawing cats." Steve responded simply, reaching his hand out and pointing just slightly upward, at a small cat with an orange, black, and white coat that Bucky hadn't noticed until Steve pointed it out.

"Don't cats, like, get stuck in trees?" Bucky asked, mildly concerned for the cat's sake.

"Maybe, but not this one. I've seen him up here before, and he's always managed to get down again."

Bucky watched as the cat hopped down onto a lower branch, closer to Steve, and the lanky boy reached out and scritched it's tiny, white chin.

"So I take it you're well acquainted with this cat?" Bucky asked, knowing he should get back to running because the wind was gusting an he was already cold, but not moving away just yet.

"Oh, yes, quite so." Steve responded mildly as the cat rubbed it's angular face into his hand, "We're on a first name basis, he and I."

"Okay, so what's his name?" Bucky wondered aloud, shifting his weight to one leg and shivering a little in the cold.

"Cat." Steve said simply as Bucky heard the cat begin to purr all the way from where he stood on the ground.

"Well, alright, then. Do you know who's cat it is?" Bucky found himself asking as he crossed his arms in front of himself for warmth.

"As far as I can tell, he's nobody's. He just roams around the neighborhood, searching for food."

"Well, doesn't he get cold?" Bucky asked, starting to take small steps back and forth as his teeth began to chatter. He really had to get moving again, or else go back indoors.