Chapter 5

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You laid your hand on the door handle, taking a deep breath in and holding it for a moment, then releasing it slowly. Handshake your fear. It's just Bucky. He's seen you post-workout. He's seen you in pajamas. He's your soulmate. You'll be fine.

You ripped open the door before you could panic too much, eyes widening in shock as you took in Bucky's appearance.

Holy crap...

He cleaned up really well. He'd trimmed his hair an inch or two, so it wasn't so long, and cleaned up his beard. He was dressed in a dark navy button up, which was tucked into his dark pants. His leather jacket was thrown over his arm, and he carried one lonesome rose in his glove-covered, left hand.

He looked like one of those GQ models.

Close your mouth. Y/n!

He held out the deep red rose, eyes trailing down your figure, taking in your dressed-up appearance. "Wow. You look beautiful, doll."

You beamed, cheeks reddening, lifting your hand to accept the rose. You stroked your thumb over the velvety petals, heart fluttering in your chest. "Thank you. You don't look too bad, yourself."

You heard a loud AWHHH from the bathroom, breaking you out of your stunned state, before hearing Wanda snicker to herself.

"Wanda wanted some girl time. She's in my bathroom, getting ready." You rolled your eyes, lips still lifted in a large grin. "She gave me the dress." You walked backwards a little, gently placing the rose on your dresser, "Thank you for the rose." You turned back to him, accepting his outstretched hand and exiting your room. "I love roses."

"I know." He squeezed your hand once, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You told me when you made me watch that TED Talk about plants."

You glanced over at him, impressed, "Wow. You were paying attention."

"I pay attention to everything you say." He smirked, laying on the charm on thick. "You're interesting to listen to."

"Suck up." You giggled, a small shiver running down your spine.

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"No! You have to hold them like this!" You laughed, leaning forward so you could position the chop sticks in Bucky's flesh hand. The guy was on his fourth pair of wooden chopsticks. He kept snapping them in half, accidentally. You positioned the bottom one between his thumb and pointer, resting the end on his ring finger. "Now the other one, you hold like a pencil. You should only be moving the top one back and forth."

He tried again, huffing in frustration when it slipped out of his grasp. "This is useless. Why can't I use regular silverware?"

"Because! You should learn how to hold a pair of chopsticks!" You laughed, repositioning them, again. "What if you go on a mission in an Asian country and need to eat? You'll stick out, if you struggle."

"I'll stick out, anyways, and I'll use a damn fork." He muttered, making another attempt. This time, the chopstick didn't fall from his grasp. "Hey... I think I might have it."

"See! It's not that hard!"

He had kept his word, bringing you to some fancy sushi place in Manhattan, where the sushi was professionally made. The place was beautiful. Much more than you could normally afford. The restaurant even had a sushi bar, where you could sit and watch the Itamae handmake each roll with precision.

You'd originally been up at the bar, but Bucky had gotten recognized by some of the patrons. You'd been moved to a private booth in the back, since Bucky was worried that someone would interrupt your date.

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