Red White and You

|5| Once Upon a Dream

The gentle touch of our hands when we walk alongside one another on the sidewalk.

The short glances up at me through deep, distant eyes.

The way he says my name.

The weightless feeling I get when his arm brushes against me when we lay in our bed.

The heat that radiates from him throughout the night and crawls over to my legs and arms.

His laugh.

His smile.

Him.

Everything about Bucky is perfect. I can't seem to find a single thing I don't like about him. The only thing I can't stand to bear any longer, however, is not being able to have him for my own.

He doesn't like me like this, and he shouldn't... I shouldn't even like him like this. It's completely illegal. But then, why do I get such a wonderful fluttering feeling in my chest and a heavy rolling in my stomach when I see him? Why do I miss him so dearly when he goes to work? Why do I get so insanely angry when he goes out with a different dame every night?

I wish I didn't feel this way. But I do.

I've kept it hidden away for so long. Tucked away my feelings deep in my head, far away from anything remotely relevant. However, every so often it'll come up in my mind and I'll think about him for hours on end; I'll even dream about him. I'll feel the urge to scoot over to him and the need to hug him tight and hold him close and never, ever let him go again. To watch the sun beam down on his face through the window as the morning creeps up through the night with no judgements would be bliss. To feel his chest rise and fall as he breathes effortlessly. To have those massive, calloused hands touch me... everywhere. To hear him say my name... over and over and over again...

What would I give for that.

* * *

I stood at the mirror, putting away my toothbrush and gently patting down my messy blonde hair.

"Steve, breakfast is ready!" I hear him yell from the kitchen, his voice so beautifully rich and loving.

"Be right down!" I reply, already walking down the stairs. "Good morning, Bucky" I start.

"Mornin' love" he plants a soft peck on my cheek as I sit in my white, beaten wooden chair. He puts a light green plate with a single egg and a slice of toast in front of me complete with a glass of orange juice. I feel him standing behind me, his warm breath hitting the back of my neck sending shivers down my spine.

"Thanks" I turn to look at him. He smiles and inches towards my lips. So close, so warm. I feel him moving closer, the heat rushing to my face—

* * *

I wake up. Another dream.

Bucky is still next to me, facing my direction, fast asleep... so it must be Saturday. I turn around to face the window to see the orange sky spattered with red flecks and yellow ribbons. It's only about 5:30 so hopefully he won't wake up just yet. I would practically die if he knew I was hard from that dream... that dream about him. So I reluctantly relax and eventually fall back to sleep.

Almost an hour later I wake to my name, "Steve! Steve wake up it's nearly 7. Breakfast is ready... c'mon in!" Bucky yells from the kitchen.

Is this another dream? No. It can't be. It's too- average.

"Coming!" I reply. I stand up and make my way to the kitchen after pulling on a shirt and pants.

"Hey"