Where Are We? Pt3
“One coffee absolutely smothered in whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and sugar ready for tasting,” I said, presenting the decadent drink with a flourish.
His awestruck look, the wide eyes and slowly growing smile, were so damn adorable. Only got better after he tasted it.
“It’s so good!”
I couldn’t contain my laughter. “Damn right it is! You got a sweet tooth huh?”
He was too busy sucking the coffee down to answer though. This is the third one I’ve made. I wonder how many he’s gonna drink before we satisfy that craving of his.
“Can I try the cold kind now?” he asked excitedly, staring down at his empty mug. “The kind you said is almost like a shake.”
Ah, look at you. So adorable. Like a kid on Christmas.
“Course you can.”
The elevator dinged in the hallway. All that pretty light in his eyes vanished in an instant as the voices filtered in. All that loose relaxation transformed into rigid anxiety. A damn shame is what it is. No one should interrupt a man discovering the delights of coffee. Especially not this one.
“Can I help you?”
Cap paused a foot into my living room with a pensive look. Tony pushed right past him, bold as always, making his way straight for our little spot in the kitchen.
“A little birdy tells me the arm was bothering you. Anything you can say to elaborate on that? Was it pinching? Aching? Pulling on your shoulder? Details, details.”
Tony’s rapid fire speech had the effect I thought it might. James was pulling away in more ways than one. Hunching his shoulders, leaning away from the new presence in the room. He wouldn’t keep eye contact with either one of us. And Steve adding in his own mother hen concerns didn’t help anything either. They just made him more self-conscious, hugging himself tightly against all the prying.
“Ya mind giving it a rest?” I snapped. “Not even a hello to me. In my kitchen. As I stand here in my damn living space.”
Tony, the self-proclaimed genius he was, wisely quieted down first. Made small talk for a minute. Noticed the half pot of coffee and immediately brightened back up as he sorted through my sugary add-ins. He mocked my birthday cake creamer while reaching for the box of peppermint sticks.
Steve took longer to get the message. Oh sure, he quieted down alright, but he didn’t back off questioning James. Refused a good cup of coffee. Commented, in I’m sure what he thought was curiosity, but what probably sounded accusatory to James, about the three mugs lined up on the counter and all the sugar. That was the last straw.
James closed his eyes. Rolled his neck. Sighed.
Bucky was there when he opened his eyes. He smacked his lips with a little grimace.
“Why does my mouth taste like vanilla, chocolate, and that fancy coffee blend you break out on holidays?”
I shrugged. “He’d never had good coffee.”
“I’m sorry. Pause. He? He who is sitting here questioning his coffee tastes?” Tony cut in, stirring his drink.
“Nah, the guy who was drinking the coffee,” Bucky answered flatly. “So who was it? Who’s got the sweet tooth to match your own?”
“Buck, what are you talking about? Are you feeling alright? First your prosthetic and now this…”
Bucky looked over, understandably, in confusion. Cap’s face did like four different expressions before settling on horror.
“Is your memory slipping again? Do you remember who I am?” he asked frantically. “It’s me, Steve!”
Bucky shoved the guy out of his space with an aggravated grunt. Reached for the mug of coffee I was pouring.
“I remember you, ya punk. This ain’t that.”
“Then what is it?!”
Damn, Steve. Mother hen or dramatic damsel in distress. Pick a role.
“Could you take it down a notch? For my sanity, of which I have so little?”
Oh, nice. Used so seldom but always a ringer.
“Nicely done.” I raised my mug to clink against his. “Beautiful silence.”
Steve glared at me. As if I care he’s got his disapproving scowl on and pointed at me.
“So who was he?” Bucky asked again.
I sipped my coffee for a moment. Soaked in the peace.
“Said his name was James.”
His eyes widened. Just a second mind you. Then he hid a smile behind his mug.
“Good for him,” he whispered. “Been a hell of a long time.”