breakfast
You awoke the next morning at five am, your mind on one thing and one thing only – Bucky Barnes. You had never met anyone like him and though you didn’t know much about him, you knew that he was different and you were sure that he was going to continue to surprise you. As you dried your body off, exiting the shower, you thought about the fact that your day usually didn’t begin for at least another hour. But you, being completely enamored with Bucky, wanted to look presentable for your breakfast date; if it even was a date, to be quite frank, you weren't sure what his intentions were or why he’d asked to share a meal with you. Nevertheless, you were grateful. So, that’s exactly what you did; you spent a tedious amount of time in the shower, shaving every crevice of your body and adorning it with your favorite scent – cherry blossom. When you were finished you took your time diffusing your curls into the perfect circular pattern and threw on an olive green sundress with tan leather strappy sandals. Your makeup was minimal, you always preferred a mostly bare face so your freckles could shine through and that helped you with keeping your skin mostly clear, as well, despite a breakout here and there. You glanced at the clock as it read 7:45am – shit, you thought. You took one last look in the mirror before grabbing the flowers you had spent most of the night working on in between reading Bucky’s texts and headed out the door and down the steps of your brownstone.
Luckily, when you decided to buy a home, being in close proximity to your shop was a requirement that you wouldn’t budge on with the realtor and now three years later, you were thankful for that because it gave you the opportunity to walk to work everyday. As someone who lived alone, you wouldn’t think that you needed that time every morning to clear your head and prepare yourself for your day, but you did. You needed the smells of the city as every breakfast nook opened for business, you needed the chirp of the birds, and the views of the architecture of Manhattan, you just needed to breathe it all in and think about how fortunate you were to be alive each day. Yet, oddly enough, this morning as you walked down the sidewalk all you could think about was James Barnes and his flowers that you held in the vase in your hands. You weren’t sure which color tulips his mother would prefer, so you went with white ones, classy and elegant, paired with baby pink ranunculus with sparse hints of pine. You were proud of it, the bouquet was beautiful and you hoped that he’d think so too. You were lost in the thoughts of the flowers as you often were, when you made it to the front of the shop, reaching into your bag to unlock the door and pushing your way in. It was genuinely your favorite place on earth, having put all of your life savings into it when you decided to follow your dream of becoming a florist in the big apple. From the black and white checkered floor, to the hot pink walls and the neon sign that hung above the flower menu, you had designed every piece of this space – it was the very essence of your being, creativity that went from your brain to pieces of paper that was in turn brought to life. This space, your space, only brought you peace and tranquility and every time you stepped into it, all the anxieties of the rest of the world seemed to melt away.
You quickly made your way around the counter and placed the flowers into the refrigerator so they would be in perfect condition when Bucky arrived. Glancing at the clock, you realized you only had about thirty minutes before he would be here so you began to prepare the rest of the arrangements that would be picked up for the day, placing them one by one in the refrigerator and sweeping up the aftermath of your work – petals and shrubs littering the floor. Just as you finished cleaning up, you heard the bell of the door sound off and a pit grew in your stomach.
“Doll, are you here?”
His voice rang out and you untied your apron, hanging it on the hooks in your office before traveling to the front and meeting eyes with the man of the hour.
“Hi – you’re early.”
You replied, smiling ear to ear at him.
“Early is on time and on time is late.”
He retorted and though his banter was playful, you concluded that he was serious.
“Let me grab your flowers and we can go.”
You stated, giving him a smile to which he nodded in return. You made your way to the refrigerator, digging for the vase that read ‘Barnes.’ When you retrieved it, you placed it on the counter. Behind the counter, there were rows of ribbon that lined the wall, ready to be pulled and cut at your convenience. Bucky took notice of it as you reached behind you to grab the color white and moved forward again, tying it around the top of the vase. It told him you were organized and that you took your work space seriously, which just added to the list of things he admired about you.
“You really go the extra mile, don’t you?”
He questioned, watching you with intent. You nodded, giving him a smile in response.
“I believe that we shouldn’t do anything in life half-assed and if you’re going to half-ass something, then it’s not worth doing to begin with and it’s definitely not something you should be doing for someone else.”
He stared at you for a moment, like he was trying to evaluate the complexities of humanity and you thought that maybe you’d said the wrong thing. However, quickly pushed that idea out of your head because you were telling him the truth and if he didn’t respect your views then he wasn’t worth it, after all.
“Sorry for staring, I just –, my dad used to say that. I’ve never ever heard anyone else say it before.”
He muttered in an almost trance-like state, eyes locked on the flowers.
“I’m sorry, James.”
You replied; understanding that if his dad used to say it – he was no longer with him. Bucky shook his head no.
“No worries, sweetheart. The flowers are perfect, I mean – so beautiful. She’s going to love them.”
You beamed in his direction, thanking him with your eyes as you finished tying the perfect bow around the vase.
“Alright, let’s go.”
You said, handing Bucky the flowers and leaving a note for the morning crew before walking out of the shop, locking the doors and turning the door sign around to read ‘Closed’ before letting Bucky’s hand guide you into the black suv he had arrived in.