Bucky sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his vibranium hand. The dog tags around his neck clinked softly as he shifted, the sound somehow heavier than usual. Y/n was in the kitchen, humming to herself as she made breakfast, blissfully unaware of the war raging in his mind.
It wasn’t her fault. She was perfect—kind, smart, patient, everything he didn’t think he deserved. But that was the problem. Wasn’t it? She deserved someone who fit into her world. Someone who understood memes without needing them explained. Who didn’t get overwhelmed by crowds or who could actually laugh along with her friends instead of feeling like an outsider in their world. He didn’t belong here. Not at this time. Not with her.
Y/n walked in her hair slightly mussed from the morning, wearing one of my old shirts. She was holding a tray balanced carefully in her hands, carrying a breakfast, golden French toast and two steaming mugs. I assumed one was tea for her and the other, black coffee for me. Her face lit up with her usual radiant smile, a look so serene and angelic that she seemed almost otherworldly.
She smiled even brighter, which I didn’t think was possible as she handed me a mug. “Morning, sleepyhead.” I looked up and took the coffee, but the warmth of the mug did little to ease the cold feeling in my chest.
“Y/n, we need to talk,” I said, my voice low but steady.
She frowned, placing her mug on the table with a soft clink. “That sounds ominous,” she said, followed by a light giggle, unaware of just how right she was.
I took a deep breath, staring into the dark liquid swirling in the mug I held tightly. “I’ve been thinking… maybe this isn’t working.”
Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” At first, she didn’t understand, but then she realised it.
“We’re fine. Aren’t we?” she asked, her frown deepening as her eyes searched mine.
I shook my head, unable to meet her eyes. “You deserve someone… normal. Someone who understands your world, your jokes, your friends. Someone who isn’t stuck in the past.”
“Bucky,” she said softly, sitting beside me. “Where is this coming from? Did something happen?” She sounds worried and places her hand gently on my knee, her thumb moving in slow, soothing circles.
“It’s not one thing,” I admitted, setting the coffee down. “It’s everything. You’re young, Y/n. You have your whole life ahead of you. And I’m… I’m old. I’ve lived through things you can’t even imagine. And sometimes, I feel like I’m dragging you into my mess.”
She stops the movement of her hand “That’s not how I see it,” she said firmly.
“I know,” I said, finally meeting her gaze. “But it’s how I feel. And I don’t think it’s fair to you. You could be with someone who doesn’t come with all this… baggage.” I gesture to myself.
She stared at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she stood up, crossing her arms. “Okay, let’s break this down. First of all, yes, you’re older. But that doesn’t mean we don’t understand each other. And you’re not the only one who has been through tough things. Everyone has baggage, Bucky.” She says firmly not letting her shields down.
“It’s not the same,” I argued.
“I’m not saying it’s the same baggage,” she countered, her voice steady, “but we all have something we fight.”
“No, it’s not,” she admitted, her tone softening. “But it doesn’t have to be. We don’t have to be the same to make this work.”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Y/n, you’re too good for this. For me.”
She let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “You don’t get to decide that for me. I knew who you were when we started this, Bucky. I chose this. I chose you. And yeah, it’s not always easy, but what relationship is?” She smiled slightly at me.
I looked up at her, the walls I’d been building around myself starting to crack. “What if I can’t give you what you need? What if—”
“Stop,” she interrupted, sitting back down beside him. “What I need is you. Flaws, baggage, your dad jokes, and all of you. You don’t have to have everything figured out, Bucky. We can figure it out together.”
I was silent for a long moment, the weight of her words sinking in. “What if I can’t be enough?”
She moved to sit on top of me, each leg on one side, and placed her hands on my cheeks, her gaze locking onto mine. “Then we deal with it. Together. But you don’t get to push me away because you’re scared. That’s not fair to me.”
I stared at her, my throat tight. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Maybe not,” she said with a small smile. “But I’m not going anywhere.”
I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulled her close, and buried my face against her, inhaling her familiar scent. She responded by wrapping her arms around me, holding me just as tightly.
I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “You’re stubborn.”
“That’s why you like me,” she whispered into my ear brushing her lips softly against it.
Without thinking, I lifted my head closing the distance between us, and pressed my lips softly against hers. The kiss was tender, lingering for a moment as if we both needed the reassurance.
And for the first time in weeks. I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe we could make this work Maybe I didn’t have to do this alone.