Friday, 2 January 2015

Bucky Barnes one shot - Old Autumn Raindrops



                Layla was humming to herself, she always loved the sound of rain pattering on the windows, it always calmed her. The sun had long since set, and the streetlamps outside were casting a warm glow that was only faintly washed out by the rain. She was about to shut her curtains when she saw a man stood under a streetlight. Curious, she watched, and still he did nothing. She could see his face, and her heart broke just a little, he looked so… lost. So it was without really thinking that she swapped her slippers for rain boots and grabbed her umbrella, jogging outside.
                “Hey, you ok?” She called. The man whipped around, eyes like a cornered animal. “Are you lost?” She asked, even though it was obvious he was.
                But still he said nothing, simply stared at her.
                “Do you have a place to go?” She asked, because he didn’t look homeless, so surely he had somewhere he was supposed to spend the night.
                This time his eyes looked to the ground, “I don’t know.”
                How could he not know? He didn’t look drunk, maybe he just lost the address, or the group of friends he was with. Whatever the case, there was only one logical next step.
                “Do you want to come inside?” His dark eyes flew to hers. His long hair was soaked by the rain that was only getting harder.
                “No. Go away.”
                She sighed, “Look, you’ve obviously got nowhere to go, and I’m not leaving you in the rain.”
                “Leave me alone.”
                “No. I’m not going inside until you come with me.” She was firm, but her steps were gentle as she walked over to him, boots sloshing in the puddles. She didn’t get too close, but as soon as she was close enough she stretched out her arm, moving the umbrella from herself to cover him, feeling the rain soak through her shirt.
                Now Bucky, for that’s who it was, was confused. Who was this woman? And why was she insisting on helping him? But she didn’t seem like she was leaving any time soon, and so it was with slow steps that he walked over to her, following her as she walked back towards a house. He had no idea why he was doing it, he could easily outrun her, she was no match for him. But something about her, her honesty, it confused him. His world felt slower, heavier, his mind running through honey and he tried to form his thoughts, but all he could do was follow her words.  
                Layla locked the door behind them as she took off her boots, “just take off your shoes and stay there for a second, I’ll find you some dry clothes.” She left and rummaged through her closet, finding a shirt and pj bottoms that would probably fit him, and then grabbed a towel for good measure. He was exactly where she had left him, stood like a statue in the doorway, his shoes lined up neatly next to hers. “Here you go.” She said cheerfully, putting the pile in his arms. “The bathroom’s that door right there, just change and dry off and I’ll set up a bed for you. What’s your name anyway?”
                He took a moment to respond, “James.”
                “James…? James what?”
                He thought for a moment, “James Rogers.” It was the first thing that came out of his mouth, because he couldn’t give her his real name, who knows what could happen.
                “Well it’s nice to meet you James Rogers, I’m Layla Nightingale.” She smiled at him and then walked away to a cupboard, fetching sheets and pillowcases for his bed. Again, he was slow to move, still confused about the whole situation. He walked to the bathroom she had pointed out, and changed into the soft dry clothes, towelling his hair. The towel smelled nice, like some kind of flower.
                “There, you look better already.” She said as he walked into the living room. She was finishing making up the pull out couch. “Now don’t expect this to be a nightly thing, I don’t just take in strays.” She said, but there was a grin on her face and a laugh in her words, Bucky was more confused than ever. She finished the bed, “I’ll be upstairs if you need anything, and help yourself to the kitchen if you get hungry or anything.” She waved as she left the room, “Goodnight James.”

***

                The first thing Layla noticed as she woke up was that it was still raining. She yawned, and then remembered the man sleeping in her living room. The situation seemed a whole lot different in morning light, and she silently crept out of bed. He was sat on the edge of the couch, the sheets folded up neatly next to him.
                “Morning.” She said cautiously, not faltering as he looked around at her. And then she felt normal, because this man looked so lost and confused, he couldn’t possibly hurt her. “Breakfast?”
                “So James?” She asked over her skilfully made bowls of cereal, “Where you from?” She was leaned over her bowl, relaxed. He looked more at ease than yesterday, but still sat ramrod straight.
                “Indiana.”
                “I’ve never been there, is it nice?”
                “I liked it.” He lifted up the spoon and ate a bit of the cereal. Layla smiled, he wasn’t so bad at all.

***

                “James! Have you seen my tea?” It had been a week since that night in the rain, and Bucky had found himself comfortable in Layla’s house. She never asked prying questions, never questioned about his arm. She allowed him his privacy while still learning about him, his likes, his hobbies. He was content to stay there, reading her books, talking to her. He was more at peace than he ever remembered being.
                He lifted the cup of tea from the top shelf of her living room bookcase and walked it to the kitchen where she was looking for it. Her eyes lit up when she saw him, “you found it! Thanks James.”
                “Bucky.” He said, the word blurting out of his mouth before he could do anything about it.
                Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he continued. “My friends call me Bucky.”
                She smiled again, “Bucky,” she tested the name on her tongue, “I like it.” Then her tea was being thrust back into his hands as she picked up her ringing phone, “Nick, how’s it going?” Bucky watched her, her carefree smile turning into a guilty grin, he heard the voice from the phone,
“What time are we all meeting tonight?”
“I’d actually completely forgotten.”  She responded, absent-mindedly twirling a lock of hair around her finger.
“Seriously? We’ve been planning this for months!”
“I know, but I’ve been with James.”
“James? You mean that homeless guy you took in? He’s still there? Layla what’s wrong with you? He could be an axe murderer for all you know!”
She laughed, looked at Bucky with teasing eyes. She knew he could hear, “He’s not an axe murderer! Anyway, I’ll call you back in a minute.” She hung up the phone, ignoring the protests from the other end.
“Boyfriend?” Bucky asked, having learned that she didn’t mind answering personal questions in the slightest.
“Nick? Oh god no. No he’s just a friend. Speaking of friends, I was supposed to go to an art gala tonight, my friend has a big opening night.”
Bucky didn’t know what to say, was she asking his permission to go…?
She chuckled, “I was supposed to go with this other guy, but that ended a while ago and I completely forgot about getting another date, and you can’t really go to these sorts of functions without a date.”
He was confused again, confused by her flying words and bright expression.
She continued, “Bucky Rogers, will you be my date for the ball?”
Moments later she was back on the phone with Nick, “Can I borrow a suit?”
“What for?” He grumbled through the phone, then seeming to realise, “no, no you are not-”
“It’s for Bucky. He’s my date.”  
“Bucky? Who’s Bucky?!”
“Oh it’s James, nicknames and all that you know. So about the suit?”
“No. I am not giving one of my nice clean suits to a homeless guy you pulled off the street-”
Layla held up a hand because it was clear that Bucky was about to say something, probably how this was a stupid idea and that she should just go alone, but she wasn’t about to have that. “Nick I need a suit. I’m not coming otherwise.”
There was silence, and then Nick groaned. “Bring him over here, then we’ll see.”

***

                “Now Nick’s really nice, he’s just protective and he’s never met you so he’ll just be a bit sceptical at first, but he’ll warm up to you in no time!” Layla took a last look at Bucky before knocking on Nick’s front door. She’d made him presentable, combing his hair and giving him a razor to shave. He scrubbed up quite nicely, but Layla was trying to push that thought from her mind.
                Nick answered the door quickly, and immediately his eyes were sizing up Bucky, who was doing the same. Nick was about his height, blond, with fierce eyes and a strong jaw.
                Bucky stretched out his hand, “Bucky.” He said, introducing himself. It was a moment before Nick shook it, turning around gruffly and heading inside. Layla gave Bucky a thumbs up before following him inside.
                “The suit’s there.” Nick pointed to a suit laid on a couch, “you can try it on in the bathroom and we’ll see how it fits.”
                Nick waited until Bucky was out of the room before rounding on Layla.
                “What do you think you’re doing?”
                “Look at him Nick, he’s not homeless, he’s not insane, he’s a nice guy!”
                “You barely know him!”
                “I know him enough Nick.” She said firmly, and Nick knew her well enough to know that spark in her eye.
                “You can’t be serious.” He said flatly.
                “What?”
                Nick glanced towards the bathroom, seeing the door still closed. He lowered his voice, “you like him!”
                She looked away, but the faint pink blush on her cheeks told him enough.
                He groaned, “You have the worst taste in men, I swear.”
                The bathroom door clicked open and they both turned to look, but even Nick didn’t have a biting comment. Bucky looked at them, “so?”
                “It fits perfectly!” Layla said, clapping her hands. “But I actually have to go, I promised Olivia I’d get ready with her. She turned to Nick, “do you mind if Bucky tags a ride with you? You wouldn’t mind would you Bucky?”

***

                The gala was busy. Crowds of people dressed up to the nines, suits and dresses and expensive jewellery. On the ride there Nick had bombarded Bucky with questions before lapsing into silence, and then proceeding with another round of questions. Bucky answered them the best he could, this man, as rude as he was, was Layla’s friend.
                “Hey stranger!” Bucky looked down from the artwork to the person standing in front of him, almost completely unrecognizable. He’d grown so used to seeing her in her comfortable clothes and fuzzy slippers, but this was something else. Her hair was sleek and pulled to the side, glittering pins in her hair. Her dress clung to her body before flowing at her waist. It was a simple look, compared to the rest of the people here, but she looked beautiful.
                She chuckled, slipping her arm through his and guiding him to walk around the gallery. “What do you think?” She asked, meaning the artwork but Bucky didn’t quite catch that.
                “You look nice.” He said, honestly but awkwardly, he hadn’t said these types of words in a very long time.
                She smiled, not expecting the compliment, but appreciating it.
                They turned as their attention was called, speeches being made and finally her friend taking centre stage, looking nervous.
                Bucky was trying to pay attention, he really was. But he was trying to think of things to say to her afterwards. She seemed like such a natural, her arm effortlessly looped in his, her head tilting to rest lightly on his shoulder. She clapped with everyone else at the end, hearing music strike up and seeing couples beginning to dance.
                “Do you know how to dance?” She asked him, because if she was honest with herself, he didn’t look like the type to know how to dance to this type of music. But he didn’t say anything, just slipped his hand in hers and led her to the twirling couples. He spun her to face him, placing his other hand on her waist, raising an eyebrow at her.
                She was delighted, because if there was one thing she loved, it was dancing. She had barely placed her hand on his shoulder before he was whisking her away, dancing like an expert, guiding her.
                “You’ve done this before.” She accused him, still teasing.
                He raised an eyebrow.
                “Dancing!” She laughed.
                A faint smile flickered on his lips. “I like dancing.”

***
                Nick, who was dancing with his own date, kept his eyes on Layla. But even he had to admit that he hadn’t seen her this happy in a long time. And the way Bucky looked at her, all fierce and protective, it was obvious he adored the smiling girl in his arms.       

***

                “Ladies and Gentlemen, this draws our evening to a close, thank you for your support and we hope to see you here next time.”
                Bucky looked to Layla with sad eyes, he didn’t want to leave. This, the music, the dancing, it was like he was back home. He ignored the little voice in his mind telling him that it was just because he didn’t want to let go of Layla. She was bright and wonderful and lovely, she was a part of this glittering world of lights. She didn’t belong with someone like him. But he still couldn’t force himself to let her go. They began to walk back to the car and he tried to force himself to run, to leave her behind. He cursed his weakness, but then she smiled at him and her leg was pressed against his because three of them were squished in the back seat, and his heart melted all over again. Something about her was old, timeless. She seemed to move slower than the rest of her friends. It was like she saw the fast-paced business of her world and chose to reject it, living in a world of a simpler time, Bucky’s time.
                “Bucky?”
                He jolted out of his thoughts. The car had pulled up to her house and she was looking at him with concerned eyes. He looked away, stepping out of the car and loathing himself with every step he took towards her house.
                He barely heard anything, the blood was rushing through his ears. She was fumbling with the keys like she always did, usually he would step forward and help her, she would cast him a grateful glance. But he didn’t this time, and it took her a while to get the door open.
                “Well I can’t say I’m not glad to be home.” She said, flicking on the light in the entrance hall, bathing Bucky in a warm light. “My feet are killing me.” She chuckled, tossing her heels onto the mat next to her fuzzy slippers. Then she noticed, Bucky had not come in the house with her. He was stood outside it, staring at the floor with an intensity she had never seen.
                “Bucky?”
                His dark eyes shot to hers, and she automatically went to him, hands fluttering around to his shoulders, his jaw, his hands.
                He jerked away from her, and she couldn’t deny the pang of hurt that fluttered through her.
                “Bucky?” She asked again, her voice quieter this time. “Bucky what’s wrong?”
                “Why am I here?” He asked, still facing away from her. His voice was hard and cold like iron.
                “Because I thought you liked it here.”
                “I’m leaving.”
                Her heart broke a little more, and she felt the burn of tears build up in her eyes threatening to fall. “Why?”
                “You have a life to live.”
                “But you’re a part of my life now.”
                He heard her voice crack, and couldn’t look away any longer. He turned, and cursed softly under his breath. He had made her cry. This beautiful, caring woman was crying because of him. He was despicable.
                “I shouldn’t be.” He said quietly, moving closer. Why couldn’t she understand? She belonged with someone who wasn’t damaged, wasn’t broken. Someone who knew their way around the world, someone who could spoil her and treasure her in a way that he never could. “I’ve lied, about so many things. My surname isn’t even Rogers.”
                “Like that matters.” A breath on her lips.
                “I’m not a good man.” He whispered, “You don’t know what I’ve done.”
                She gripped his hands and held them to her chest like a child holding a stuffed animal. “You’ve found my tea. You carried my groceries. You helped me put on my coat every time I went outside. You-”
                “I’ve done bad things-”
                “But you’ve done good ones too.” He was silenced, why did she have so much faith in him? “You’re a good man Bucky, and I-” Her voice faltered and she looked to the ground. She looked so small, so fragile, like a cracked china doll one breath away from shattering. And he couldn’t help it, the words just tumbled from his lips in a hushed murmur.
                “I love you.”
                Her eyes jolted back up, wide and unbelieving. He didn’t say anything else, he wanted to leave but she still held his hands firmly in hers. He wanted to stay, but how could he?
                “I love you too.” It took him moments to register that she’d said it. The words he’d never expected to hear.
                “How?”
                “I just do.” She said, and he felt better. This was as confusing for her as it was for him. In this moment, she was a lost as he was.
Carefully, slowly, he stepped closer. The only space between them now was their hands, clasped together, but she was no longer holding him there, they were holding each other.

He saw her jaw angle up as he leaned down closer, hardly believing that she still felt the same for him as he did for her. And it seemed to take an eternity before his lips landed on hers. It was a soft and gentle kiss, one that promised that it was only the beginning.  

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