Bucky hadn't told anyone about the migraines he suffered with, especially not me. His excuse was that he didn't want me to worry, but when I found him writhing in pain on the sofa, his face twisted, I dropped my backpack on the sofa before running over to him, pressing my hand to his cheek.
"Hey Buck, keep your eyes closed," I whispered, knowing how sensitive a migraine can make you to light and sound. "I'm gonna close the blinds, make it dark in here and you can try to sleep. I'll see if Peter will make you some of that soup you like for later." I stood up and made quick work of playing with the blinds until the room was as dark as it could be. When I got back to him, Bucky was attempting to slide his hair away from his face weakly, his hand moving slowly, as if everything he did hurt his head. I pushed it away from his face before securing it in a loose ponytail with the hair tie I always had on my wrist. I rubbed his cheek with my hand and he hummed lightly, his head leaning into my hand. I used my other hand to press on the spot below his ears, where I know he holds tension, with my forefingers before moving to his jaw. I adjusted myself slightly so that I was crossed legged, my fingers still working on loosening Bucky's jaw. When his breath had calmed down slightly and his face relaxed into something resembling a slight peace, I text Peter, asking him to bring some of his aunts soup over, to which he replied with a quick 'Of course I will!'.
After, I didn't dare turn on the tv, or anything that could make noise, instead opting to read a book that someone had left on the coffee table. I'd look at Bucky occasionally, watching his eyebrows twitch before I turned back to the book that I found rather interesting.
Not twenty minutes after he'd fallen asleep, Bucky woke up with a low groan and mumbled "Oh shit," before he moved as quick as he could towards the kitchen, where he managed to throw up in the bin. I scrambled after him, pushing the few loose hairs that fell in front of his face away. When he finally felt he could, he leant back on his heels and I moved to be in front of him. His entire body shook. "I'm sorry." He whispered, his blue eyes opening slightly, and I could finally see just how bloodshot they were. I cupped his face gently before pulling him into me, my arms wrapping around his neck. He snuggled into me slightly, hands curled between us.
"Never, ever, be sorry. It's not your fault," I whispered, pressing my lips on his temple in a gentle kiss. "Peter brought you some soup, do you feel up to it?" I asked, feeling him nod lightly.
"I love you." He whispered back, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me closer to him.
"I love you too, Buck."
