Though The Stars Are Nice Too
You swung your leg over the window frame, making sure you had secure footing before ducking your head outside and standing up.
“Okay, hand me the blanket,” you said, reaching your arm inside. Bucky handed you the pile of fabric and you layed it out over the sandpapery shingles. He managed to squeeze through the tiny window as well, watching as you layed the fluffy quilt down. The slant of the roof was just enough so that you wouldn’t slide, but could still see the sky clearly. You jauntily sat down on the blanket, patting the space next to you. “Come on.”
He complied, leaving absolutely no space between you and wrapping his left arm around your shoulders. You felt a breeze blow across your face, and pulled the massive quilt up over yours and Bucky’s shoulders. You both laid down and looked up at the clean sky, peppered with glowing lights.
Snuggling closer to him, you started naming off stars and constellations, telling short stories that went along with them, like the time you got lost on a night hike and had to follow Polaris back to your camp, or how your childhood best friend was named after one of the constellations; Lyra.
He told you about how he’d miss how clear the night skies were in Brooklyn when the only stars in Nazi Germany were the bombs, about how when he and Steve were kids, they’d climb on top of their building’s roof and sit and watch the stars.
You smiled, loving that he was remembering things, loving that he was the one talking and telling stories for once. “I love the sound of your voice,” you said to break a silence.
He replied by looking at you and smiling shyly, then looking back up at the sky and saying, “Out here, you look around, and there’s just such...incredible beauty. I mean, I wouldn’t even be able to describe it to someone, that’s how beautiful it is out here. There aren’t even words. And then there’s the stars and the sky. Those are pretty nice too.” He grinned, looking back over at you.
This earned him a hushed laugh and a soft kiss from you. Your hand tangled in his hair as your lips pressed to his and you broke off the kiss quickly, pressing your forehead to his.
“I’m glad you’re mine. I love you,” you murmured.
You felt your stomach flutter as he returned the “I love you,” with your name tagged at the end.
Two years and you still felt like a schoolgirl with a crush around him, which you supposed wasn’t really a bad thing. Bucky pulled you closer to him, so that you were almost on top of him. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt. You felt his arms tighten around your waist as he went over how he needed you in any and all ways possible.
You wished moments like this would last forever.