To say it hadn't been an easy year for Bucky was an understatement.
Hell, it hadn't been an easy seventy.
But he was finally feeling "normal" according to him. He looked better. He felt better. And to be honest, unbeknownst to you, you were the reason. The reason he woke in the morning. The reason that he smiled, and smiled for no apparent reason other than he was stupidly happy.
You applied the red lipstick and grabbed the heels from the small black box, setting the vintage shoes on the bed. You turned to the mirror, your heart racing just a little bit faster than normal. You wanted tonight to go well, hoping that this was a party that Bucky could actually enjoy.
The dress fit you like a glove and you briefly wondered how Tony had been able to find it. It was clearly just as vintage as the shoes. The white dress hugged every curve and the pin curls finished off the look.
You sat softly on the edge of the bed, mind unfocused as you slid your feet into the heels. You worried that he'd back out, spend the night holed up in his room. That you'd have to coax him out, or if you were particularly lucky, spend it holed up with him.
You finally pulled yourself together and made your way downstairs, keeping an eye out for the man of the hour. The place was extravagantly decorated, the 1930's feel filled the entire room. Gold balloons hung in every corner and across the ceiling. Leave it to Stark to go all out.
Your eyes flitted over to the bar and your breath hitched. The blue jacket, the hair was short. He turned for the briefest moment, catching your eye. A smile stretched across his beautiful face and he sat his glass down on the bar, excusing himself from the conversation.
"God, Doll...," he sighed, holding out a hand and you took it, letting him pull you gently to him. He kissed the corner of your lips before he pulled back, his eyes roaming over every inch of you. "You're some kinda dame."
You dropped your head, blushing a bit. "Thanks, Sarge," you replied, meeting his steely blue eyes. The music began to swell around you and he hummed the tune, a smile on his face. "I always loved this one," he said softly, "dance with me, Babydoll."
You let him lead you out onto the floor. You knew every eye was on you, but you only had eyes for him. Louie Armstrong's voice filled the room as Bucky wrapped his arms around you. His lips were pressed against your ear as he quietly sang along.
Now I'm flyin' high, but I've got a feelin' I'm fallin'
Fallin' for nobody else but you
Mama, you caught my eye and I've got a feelin' I'm fallin'
You smiled to yourself, letting your eyes flutter shut. The room melted away, it was just the two of you for the next few minutes. His kissed your neck, just enough to shiver, and hummed along with the tune.
I used to travel single-o, we chanced to mingle-o
Now I'm a tingle over you
Hey, Mister Parson stand by, but I've got a feelin' I'm fallin'
Fallin' for nobody else but you
He pulled back, just a bit, the tiny box in his hand. Your breath hitched again and tears filled your eyes. "I know it's my birthday, baby, but you're all I want." You nodded, too choked up to find the words. He slipped the ring on your finger and kissed you, slow. Passionately.
The rest of the night was a blur. Congratulations and 'happy birthdays' passed around. His hand never left yours as he showed you off proudly, happier than you'd ever seen him.
Everyone raised a glass as he held your hand, and he turned his head, smiling at you. "Make a wish, old man!," Tony yelled out, the candles burning bright before you. "Don't think I need to," he said softly, leaning over to kiss your cheek. "Got all I could wish for right here."
