☀︎Marvel Imagines☀︎Discontinued.

{1} Bucky Barnes~Recruitment

Word count~1307
Requested by~ Cosmic-barnes
I know Bucky was drafted but use your imagination, it just didn't fit with it.
~c
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"Bucky what on earth have you done? You do realise you'll die out there!"
"It's my choice Em," he retorted,raising his voice coldly, "I have nothing here, yes there's my family and Steve but I can make a change by doing this, why can't you see that? Going to war will make me a hero".
I stand there, my face scrunches as I keep myself from sobbing. 'No, he can't go. I can't have him die'.I bite my lip and think for a moment before letting out my voice again, this time more calmly. "Your death won't end this war Buck, please," my speech trembles "don't leave me here," I see his eyes dull slightly and the corners of his mouth falter, "don't leave me here to worry about you, what if you get hurt? What if you die? What am I supposed to do without you Bucky? You never thought for a second how it would impact your family and Steve and, and me."

Silence.

We stare at each other, desperation in my eyes but I'm not sure with his. I never have been able to read him. And it makes times like this so much more tense than I can handle.
Closing my eyes, I sigh before nodding- accepting that he wasn't going to listen to me. A tear escapes me and I am quick to wipe it away, 'why did I I have to fall in love with him of all people? He's never even looked at me as anything more than a friend'.

It's only a few seconds-but it feels like a lifetime- until I decide that it's best to just leave. There was nothing I could do now- he was never one to listen to me, never mind how life changing or life ending it could be.

My legs begin to carry me towards the small wooden door on the other side of the room, Bucky just stands there- motionless, 'shocker, of course he wouldn't make an effort to comfort me as I worry about his untimely death. You know what I have been this mans best friend for 7 years-in love with him at least 3- and he can't even face me and tell me it's okay'. I subconsciously roll my eyes at that thought.

Making my way past him, our hands brush and I want more than anything for him to grab it, any second now, but he doesn't.
Our hands detach and I exit the room, alone; my heart racing and mind flooded with concern.

——————————————————————

Seven whole days have passed and Bucky hasn't come by- Steve said he's not been too lively recently, which in all honesty is kind of ironic seeing as he want and signed his own death warranty when he volunteered for recruitment. Currently I am in the cramped kitchen of my home, furiously dicing onions, a loud knock erupts originating from the front door shocking me. My hand slips and I feel a stinging sensation overwhelm my hand.
I hiss in pain as the juices of the onion seeps into the large gash across my left hand.

"Come in" I yell from my place in the kitchen, the door squeaks but my back is turned toward it as I turn on the cold water tap. I let the cool substance glide over the cut, and someone approaches me. I feel their warm breathe on my neck, juxtaposing the freezing sensation the water gives as I clean out the cut.
"What happened?" Their voice is soft and I recognise it immediately.
"Nothing, I just cut myself cooking," I reply reluctantly. I bite my lip holding back any cries stored up in me.
"Here, let me help," Bucky says, bringing his arm around me-grazing my waist- before it reaches my hand.
"It's fine Buck," I attempt to pull away from his touch but he keeps ahold,
"Em, please, just let me help you." I hesitate but give in, knowing he is as stubborn a man can be. I let him guide me to one of the four dining room chairs and sit, he turns and heads to a wall cabinet. He opens it, delves in, before pulling out a first aid kit; a simple one only containing a bandage and a few plasters. I can see the outline of his back muscles as he reaches up, 'wow you sure are making this difficult for me Barnes'.

Bucky comes back to where I'm sat and kneels down in front of me. With all my might I try to avoid eye contact, as he takes my small hard in his larger one and begins to wrap it with the bandage ever so delicately. I can hear his breathing, it's shaky and uneven, as if he's scared that i could shatter like thin glass.
He finishes and we sit, awkward silence flooding the room. I wait a couple of seconds but eventually my voice kills the quiet,
"Thanks" it barely comes out, and is not very loud at all but I know he's heard me because the corners of his mouth lift slightly.
"It's okay," he pauses, " just be more careful, yes?" His eyes meet mine and it almost seemed like a reflex to smile at his words. I nod once.

Silence again, but this time it's not awkward. He stands up, as do I. I half expect him to leave. But he doesn't.

As I look at him curiously I realise his eyes fall to me lips, and soon enough mine do the same to his; he leans in slow. Our faces are so close now- I feel his hot breath breech my skin.
The tip of my nose nudges his own and it seems that this is the moment I've longed for for so many years now.

Our lips are almost touching when I feel his hand cup my cheek, warming it sweetly.
His lips brush mine before crashing into them completely; I feel my heart collapsing in my chest as I realise that he's going off to war and this may be the only time that this could happen.
I break from the kiss and gasp deeply,
"what's wrong? I didn't mean to-" he says gently but I cut him off.
"No, nothing's wrong. I just, i..." I try to find the words to say but my search comes up empty. I find his eyes with my own.
"It's about me leaving, isn't it?," he looks down to his feet.
"Buck..."
"No, I'm sorry, I should have considered how you would've felt before I signed up. It was stupid not too".
I tense my shoulders, not knowing how to reply.
"But it's too late now," he utters.
I don't hesitate to lift my hands up to his face, holding it in desperation.
"I'm so sorry Em, please forgive me, but I have to go- there's no turning back. It's my duty to protect this country. And I know me being a soldier won't put a stop to this war, but I'm doing something to protect my country and more importantly you."
I nod- I don't agree that he should leave but I understand why he wants to.
"Just be brave, and come back home. I don't care hen- just come home, preferably safe," I say, his arms wrap around me pulling me into his chest. He places his face in the crook of my neck- I do the same- and we stay there, in each other's arms for a while. Yet no matter how long we stood there cuddling, I knew it would never be for long enough because he eventually had to head home and saying his goodbyes to everyone else.

That was the last time I ever saw him, everyday I regret never confessing how strongly I felt for him.