Puppy Love

When you woke up the next morning, it was the routine as per usual: shower, brush teeth, clean up the apartment and head downstairs to feed the dogs and yourself. However, that routine was halted when you realized that there was a guest in your home, or at least there used to be. When you went to your small living room, there was folded blankets, a simple thank you on a post-it, and no Bucky Barnes.

It was in your nature to worry; you couldn’t help it. Of course, it was logical to assume that he’d just left earlier than you because he felt better. Still, there was a small little pit in your stomach at not knowing where your patron was.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t stop the day for just one person.

The dogs were chipper as usual, excited for the day. Throughout the rest of work, your head was in the clouds, movements on auto pilot. Bucky didn’t come at his usual time and Nappy noticed, becoming restless. It had taken a while to get him to stop pouting and he only did after you promised him head scratches all night long.

The store was quiet and serene as customers milled in and out of the bakery. You’d kept the café open an hour longer than usual, with Napoleon waiting at the front entrance, as though Bucky would magically appear in the doorway. Maybe, just a little bit, you’d been hoping for the same thing. Both you and the dog had gone upstairs a bit more dejected than usual. That night, you’d gone to bed with one certain man on your mind.

He never did come back after that night. No word was sent of his whereabouts or whether he was even alive. There was never anything about him on the news and soon enough he was just a distant thought in your mind.

A month passed and you were taking Naps on a late-night jog. You’d been swamped with two of the dogs being adopted. It was a joyous time seeing Charlie and Sherbert get new families. Charlie was a sweet little pug who’d been left on the side of the road by her old owners. She’d been adopted by a kind single father and his daughter who’d come to the café for the past year. Sherbert was an anxious wiener dog who’d warmed up to a wonderful old couple. It was a perfect match since the couple’s children had long since left the house and there were no other pets with them.

There wasn’t much time to celebrate because as soon as two left, three more came in which meant registering, signing, and buying. As a result, the other dogs did not get as much attention from the staff, especially your Napoleon. When everything finally settled down you let everyone off early so the staff, the puppies, and yourself some time to rest. Your poor little dog had been so patient that you had decided to go to the nearby pet store to get him a treat.

You’d taken the more scenic route, feeling as though you hadn’t gotten to go outside for a while. The park was buzzing quietly, and the lights cast a soft glow over everything. Easily you drifted into a daydream, getting lost in your head as you made your way down the sidewalk. Napoleon, being the good boy he is, dragged you along, keeping watch on both you and the path ahead. You really couldn’t ask for a better dog and with that thought you couldn’t help but stop, crouch down and give Naps a tight hug.

After a second, you got up and continued your walk. It was getting dark and even though you’d put your life in your dog’s paws, you’d rather not put him through that. The sun was almost gone by the time you made it back to the café. It created a soft purple glow across the silently bustling city that never slept.

You walked in to find the last person you wanted to see. He sat at the same table in the corner of the room. Dropping the leash, you stared as Nappy rushed over to him like a long-lost friend. He held the gaze you bled into him and gave a shy, timid wave, that did not match his overbearing image at all.

“You’re back.”

He flinched at the words. His eyes fell to your pet and you saw how he froze up. All at once you felt pity and anger bubbling up inside you.

“Would you like to spend the night?” Without giving him a chance to answer you made your way upstairs.

The only thing you heard was the clacking of paws on the hardwood floor and then soft padding on the carpet. It was eerie, in a way, that you couldn’t hear Bucky’s footsteps. He was a very large man, but you figured it was most likely just something that he’d learned.

You went to the fridge and pulled out milk and the leftover donuts you’d made the other day. You sat down at the table and were relieved to find the silent soldier sitting across from you. You offered the best smile you could and slid the box of sweets towards him.

“I figured you’d need something sweet since we’re going to start talk about some… unpleasant things. Besides, I always find it’s easier to think with something on your stomach.”

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Bucky knew what you wanted to hear. How couldn’t he? He’d disappeared for months and then committed a crime - breaking and entering - just to see you again.

But what was he supposed to say? That he’d gotten so attached to your gentle kindness that he ran away. That he was terrified to bring the violence in his broken life into your small quiet one? Your cafe had offered him sanctuary when he deserved hell; a second chance where he deserved retribution. The fact that your laugh was so full of life that he wondered what it would be like if you find something other than suffering.

Albeit, he hadn’t known you for a very small amount of time. But your teasing smile and kind eyes equally warmed him up and set him on edge. So, when Steve had told him about a mission, he jumped at the chance to forget your small life and small café.

“I had a mission. It took longer than we thought, and I needed to go through protocols afterwards.” Therapy sessions to see how he was doing. To make sure he was okay and safe. That’s what they told him at least, but in truth he knew it was to see whether they’d have to lock him up or not.

You nodded in understanding, of course you did.

“You’re always welcome here Bucky, you know that. I just wish you’d let me know where you were going so I didn’t wake up in a panic.”

“I’m a grown ass man, doll.” Uncomfortable, he picked up a donut – glazed – and bit into it. He hadn’t tasted anything so rich and sweet that he’d enjoyed in a long time.

“Of course you are, but when you sleep in this house you report to me. So, when I say that I want to know if you’re going to disappear, then you better damn well tell me.”

Her smirk gave away her serious tone. Bucky couldn’t help but grin back at her, picking up another donut – cinnamon, he thinks it was called – after polishing off the first one.

“You’re on the couch tonight Bud,” You pointed a stern finger at him, and stood up. Bucky was still baffled about how easily you trusted him. It terrified him. “And seriously? I’m making breakfast tomorrow so just... don’t go anywhere this time.”

For just a moment, not even a second, you showed such a broken face. Bucky knew he would do whatever it took to never see it again.

“Anything for you, doll.”