Carolina Rose
A little bell above the door chimed when Rose walked into the coffee shop. A few people were mingling near the pick-up counter and a couple of the round tables dotted throughout the shop were occupied. The scent of brewing coffee was warm and familiar, easing the tension in Rose’s shoulders. She’d need this moment of normalcy.
Rose made her way up to the counter, not bothering to study the large menu board on the wall behind the barista. The red haired man behind the counter smiled at her with a little too much familiarity. Rose’s steps faltered.
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as a million thoughts raced through her mind. Was it him? Did he take those photos? Had he been hiding in plain sight all this time?
No. She couldn't think like that.
Rose steeled her spine and gulped down the lump in her throat. She couldn’t be afraid of every person around her just because someone was stalking her.
“Hi again,” the barista said, that too-bright grin still in place.
Rose froze. Okay, maybe she could be afraid of everyone.
Her foot slid backward as she prepared to make a run for it. His smile turned sheepish.
“You don’t remember me,” he said. “That’s really awkward…I guess you didn’t get my number either?”
His number…Rose’s brow furrowed. She wracked her brain trying to figure out what he was talking about.
“Oh! You were here the first time I came in, weren’t you?” The realization was a balm to her fried nerves. She approached the counter.
“Yeah,” he chuckled. The bell above the door chimed again. “I wrote my number on your cup but I guess you didn’t see it.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I did see it actually,” Rose mumbled. “Sorry, I just—”
A solid chest pressed firmly to her back and a gloved hand settled on her hip, prompting a gasp from her lips.
Rose glanced over her shoulder and there was Bucky. His eyes were unblinking, locked on the barista, but Rose felt the little squeeze of metal fingers around her hip.
“Oh, yeah, no worries. Um, what can I get you?” The barista, whose ears had turned nearly as red as his hair, had snatched up a cup and was poised with a sharpie in hand. He didn’t look up at Rose again.
“Just a London fog and a black coffee, please,” she said as nicely as she could, knowing full well how intimidating one of Bucky’s stares could be. This poor guy didn’t deserve the death glare for a bit of innocent flirting.
She swiped her credit card through the reader and left an overly generous tip as the barista shuffled away to prepare the drinks. Rose tucked the card back into her tote and nudged her shoulder into Bucky’s chest. His eyes flitted quickly over her body before meeting her eye.
“Be nice,” she whispered to him, her voice drowned out by the hiss of milk being steamed.
Bucky’s jaw twitched but he didn’t react otherwise. Rose tugged him to an empty spot by the wall where they could wait for their drinks. The barista glanced their way, catching Rose’s eye for a split second before looking away. Bucky squeezed her hip to draw her attention back to him.
“I told you to not go out alone,” he growled.
Rose sighed, leaning against the wall at her back. “It’s just a couple doors down. Besides, I was going to come right back with your coffee.”
He seemed to perk up at that. They’d been holed up in her studio for a couple days now, and although Rose had an electric kettle and a decent stash of teas in the studio’s little kitchen, there was no coffee. And Bucky was really fond of his morning coffee. He'd been crankier than usual without his normal influx of caffeine. So Rose had slipped out of the studio to grab them both a drink and take a moment to remind herself that she could still live life normally. Although, Bucky would likely argue with her on that.
“London fog and black coffee!” the barista called out across the café. He deposited the drinks in the pick-up area and scrambled away when Bucky marched up to grab their cups.
“Thank you!” Rose called out around Bucky’s shoulder.
He was standing solidly in front of her, entirely blocking out her view of the counter, as she grabbed her drink from his extended hand. There was no response from the barista and Rose suspected she’d no longer be welcome at this particular coffee shop if her ‘guard dog’ didn’t stop scaring the workers.
She shook her head in defeat and headed for the door. Bucky stayed glued to her back. He pushed open the door before she could get a hand on it. Rose looked over her shoulder again only to see his eyes carefully scanning the surrounding street.
The paper coffee cup in his hand looked ridiculously out of place when his expression had taken on that cold mask he sometimes wore. Rose sipped her own drink. It tasted great, even if it did burn her tongue.
“We need groceries,” she broke the silence between them as they walked side by side back toward the studio.
Bucky’s jaw did that twitch again that let her know he was listening. Rose almost smiled when she recognized the little tell. She’d grown familiar with her silent sentinel over their weeks together.
"Not alone," he said in a gruff voice.
"Not alone," she reassured him, hiding her smile behind another sip.
“Let’s just go now since we’re already out. I think there’s a supermarket nearby, so that'll be easier than a bunch of shops, but it might be a little crowded. Will that be okay?" Rosemary asked him.
Bucky had to resist taking his attention off their surroundings to glance down into her wide brown eyes. He nodded. A crowded location made it more difficult to safeguard her, but it also meant more witnesses and more cameras, which decreased the likelihood of an attack. The chances were never null, though. He’d have to be on guard.
"Okay! We’ll be quick. Just some snacks, and a coffee maker, and probably wine. Yeah, wine would be good."
Bucky's eyes darted around the quiet street they walked down. He took a swig of his coffee and gulped it down even though it was still boiling hot.
Rose tried to catch his eye but he was stubbornly looking anywhere but at her. That didn't sit well in her stomach but she didn't question him on it. The past couple days had been tense enough that she didn’t want to push him. Admittedly, they’d both been on edge because of the whole stalker situation and stewing in their combined tension while trapped in the studio together hadn’t done them any favors.
It was good they were getting out of the studio though. The crisp fall air was a balm in Rose’s lungs after two days stuck inside. Walking down the street with the to-go cup warming her hand was oddly grounding. The tension in her shoulders finally dissapated.
The walk to the store didn’t take long, but they’d both managed to finish their drinks in lieu of making conversation. Rose tossed their cups into a trashcan outside the supermarket and pulled a couple fold-away grocery bags out of her tote.
"Ready?" she asked over her shoulder.
Bucky's icy blue eyes were trained on her, he didn't look away or answer the question. Rose startled when he touched her wrist. But Bucky just pulled the shopping bags from her hand and gave a stiff nod.
They wandered the store aisles at a leisurely pace, Rosemary pushing the cart with Bucky trailing after her. His baseball cap was pulled as low as it could be without obstructing his field of vision. As Rosemary navigated through the aisles, dropping items into the cart at random, he followed two steps behind her, on the lookout.
In the back of his mind danger lights flashed, warning him that this place was too public, that the stalker could be anyone, anywhere.
"Do you like peanut butter?" Rosemary asked over her shoulder.
Bucky's jaw was clenched so tight it might as well be wired shut. He couldn't pry it open even to answer. Instead he stared at Rosemary until she turned to look at him. She seemed to understand what he wasn't saying.
"Okay, we'll give it a try." She smiled and tossed the plastic jar into the grocery cart. "Ooh these are good."
Rosemary plucked a bag from the shelf and put it in the cart. They were halfway down the aisle when she stopped and craned her neck back to look at a wall of plastic-wrapped snacks. Rosemary bit her lip and bounced from foot to foot. After a minute she seemed to grow frustrated. She puffed a breath from between her lips and swung around to face him.
"I can't decide. Can you pick out a couple things you wanna try?"
He nodded and relished the way his response eased the frustrated crinkle between her brows. The corner of her lips quirked up as he turned to study the shelves.
"Thanks Bucky, I'm gonna grab a bottle of wine while you're looking."
Rosemary turned, dress swirling around her ankles, and began walking away. Bucky followed at once.
"No, no, stay with the cart!" She laughed when she caught him trailing after her. "I'm just going to the next aisle and I’ll probably be back before you're done. Stay here, okay?"
Rosemary backed away down the aisle and disappeared around the corner. The moment she was gone from his sight the world narrowed. Chatter and the squeaking of grocery carts flew by him and his hearing sorted through the overload of input until he heard it—sneakers on the tile floor and the swish of fabric across soft skin.
In the next aisle over Rosemary stopped to examine the wine choices. She was humming along to the song playing over the speaker system. He listened to her voice and the clinking of glass as she sorted through the bottles lining the shelves. The instruction she’d given him to pick out snacks was long forgotten. He stared blankly at the shelves while tracking her movements in the next aisle by ear.
Another set of footsteps turned onto Rosemary's aisle. Heavier. Male. No cart. Nothing to slow him down. Even from this distance Bucky picked up traces of state sweat and cologne.
Bottles clinked. The footsteps stopped. Bucky’s grip tightened on the grocery cart handle.
The man standing next to Rosemary said something. Bucky didn't bother parsing out the words, not when he caught the jump in Rosemary's heartbeat.
The man continued speaking. Bucky heard nothing but the pounding of his own boots and the shallowing of Rosemary's breath. He rounded the corner with a singular mission. His focus narrowed to a pinhole, with Rosemary at its center.
The only obstacle that stood between him and Rosemary was the man crowding her against the wine rack. Gears whirred furiously inside his arm as he lashed out.
"Bucky no!" Rosemary gasped, her eyes growing wide at the sight of him.
He froze, but his hand clenched tighter around the man's throat.
"Lemme go!" the man wheezed. He tried to fight the hold, swinging his arms around wildly without making contact, though he came infuriatingly close to hitting Rosemary.
Bucky squeezed harder and turned to her for instruction. Fear shone behind her eyes, but there was relief there also.
The man coughed and wheezed and cursed as he fought uselessly to extricate himself.
Bucky paid him no attention. He watched Rosemary wring her hands and look wildly from side to side, presumably scouting for witnesses. She was worried. His actions made her worry.
With great effort, Bucky formed the words in his mind and unclenched his jaw to speak them.
"Permission to neutralize?"
He'd promised her that he would ask first.
A horrified look crossed Rosemary's face. "No! No permission—no neutralizing! Bucky let him go!"
Defiance coursed through his veins. He did not want to let go. This man could be the stalker tormenting Rosemary. Even if he wasn’t, Bucky wanted to get rid of this man who threatened her safety. His fingers itched to tighten. But he'd made a promise.
The steel grip on the man's neck vanished and he staggered away. Spouting more curses, he took off down the aisle without any sort of stealth. Rosemary snatched Bucky's now unoccupied hand from the air where it still hovered and began dragging him down the aisle. He pulled her to a halt.
"The wine," he said.
She shook her head. "Forget it, let’s go,” she pleaded.
He planted his feet and she once again failed to drag him away.
"You wanted wine.”
Rosemary looked frantically up and down the aisle, grabbed a bottle from the shelf without looking at it, and pulled him towards their shopping cart. This time he let her.
The pressure plates of his hand contracted as Rosemary squeezed it tighter. She only let go when the grocery cart was within reach. They moved quickly through the store now, not stopping to browse or toss things in. He never did pick out snacks like she'd asked.
Bucky easily kept pace with Rosemary's quickened stride. She glanced back every few seconds, as if checking that he was still there. After the eighth time she turned, Bucky pressed closer to her and hooked a finger through one of the dainty fabric loops at her waist. She startled at the contact but after a moment it seemed to settle her. She no longer checked over her shoulder.
Rosemary rushed them through checkout. The beeping of the machines grated on his senses but he kept hold of the loop on her dress to ground himself.
Rosemary's grocery bags filled up quickly. She swiped a card through the machine and ripped the receipt out before it finished printing. She reached for the bags but Bucky grabbed them both in his metal hand and offered her the other.
Rosemary's fingers entwined with his and the pinhole of his awareness widened just a bit, enough for him to take stock and notice the stiffness of his spine and the panicked look in her eye as she ushered them out of the store.
Their journey home was silent. Rosemary's fingers twitched against his every few seconds and her head turned constantly from side to side. He wanted to assure her that they weren't being followed but the words stubbornly refused to form on his tongue. The more he tried, the more irritated he grew, because the words just wouldn’t come. By the time they walked through the studio door Bucky was frustrated and Rosemary had beads of nervous sweat dripping down the back of her neck.
She locked and checked the door and dropped her tote bag on a nearby table. She yanked off her cardigan and tossed it onto the pile, feeling overheated despite the chill outside. Rose paused there, palms resting against the table, and her head dropped with a shaky exhale.
"Well," she gulped, "that went better than I expected.”
A few moments of thick silence followed. Neither of them knew where to go from here. A bead of sweat trailed down the back of her neck. Without thinking, he reached out.
Cool metal traced down her neck and Rose shuttered. She couldn't even be mad at him—not that she ever was—because all things considered, Bucky had behaved exactly as she’d asked.
He didn't actually hit that guy, he’d just pulled him away from her. Rose knew he was capable of doing a lot worse than that. Still, the cold, calculating focus in his eyes when he was marching down that aisle toward her had rattled Rose.
Logically, she understood that Bucky wouldn't hurt her, not on purpose. But a primal, animal-driven part of her brain couldn't help but cower in front of a higher predator.
A metal finger trailed over the back of her neck, along her spine, and disappeared before reaching the back of her dress. Rose blew out a nervous breath and raised her head. Her body quivered with leftover adrenaline.
"I think I'll take that wine now."