Adagio
“You should find a new secret place for your diary, miss.”
The repairer’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up at him and frowned as he waved a small book in the air.
“I don’t have a diary.” You extended a hand in his direction and took the book.
“Well, it’s what was blocking the vents. Should work now.” He closed the vent grill and climbed off the chair.
All your attention was focused on the small leather-bound book in your hands. You didn’t flinch when the repairer announced his ridiculously high price, you only made a noise of agreement and walked him back to the front door without taking your eyes off the book.
Once he was gone, you walked over to the kitchen and put the book on the counter. Carefully, you opened it to a random page.
Cursive letters, clear handwriting, nice loops, a bit in italics. You would recognise Bucky’s handwriting anywhere.
Panic spread through you like poison. Bucky left you 92 days ago. 3 months. You knew because, despite yourself, you counted, like some kind of addict who would always remember the last time they got their fix.
You knew it wasn’t right to read his most intimate thoughts. But he left without saying a word and you had the right to know what happened.
It’s a strange feeling. I know I’m at home, I’m fine and surrounded by people who want nothing but my happiness, but I feel hollow. Outside, everything is different, yet oddly familiar. The world changed, but it’s still the same old shit. There’s a voice inside me that screams ‘run away, they’ll find you.’ I don’t even know what I’m afraid of, I just know I have to keep moving.
According to the date, Bucky wrote that a month before you met. You turned a few pages and came to the day you met.
I met a woman today. I’m not sure met is the right word, I only held the door for her. She rewarded me with the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. Think I might have stared at her a little too long after that. She ordered a cup of coffee and left as fast as she arrived. I was still holding the door... like a buffoon. Maybe she was just a dream, but damn she was a pretty dream.
You chuckled to yourself, remembering how Bucky’s jaw fell open when he saw you. You flipped through some pages, and found the entry from your first anniversary.
I never wanted to kill anyone. I was forced and I know that, but it happened and I have to live with it. I had to build myself from scratch. New personality, new thoughts, new dreams... But despite everything, I consider myself a lucky man. Y/n. My girl, my best girl, the reason why I’m trying to put this behind me. She makes me remember what it’s like to feel human again. She amazes me.
Your stomach looped into knots, you had no idea how much he needed you. Flipping through more pages, you tried to find the reason why Bucky left. You read the last page, the date at the top of the page was the day he broke up with you.
All I’ve ever brought her is pain and worry. She’s scared. I can see it when she thinks I’m not looking at her. But I’m always looking at her. I don’t know if she’s afraid of me, of the things I could do to her if my brain snapped or if she’s afraid HYDRA’s going to find me again. I love her, but she’s better off without me.
You pulled out a note stuck between the last page and the cover. It was the note he never gave you.
My little doll,
My world was empty before you came into it, but I can’t kept turning yours upside down. Leaving you is going to be more painful than any experiment. Forgive me.
Your Bucky
You slammed the journal shut and aggressively wiped the tears away with your sleeve. Bucky never showed his vulnerable side and always kept his feelings locked up deep inside. You took your coat and keys and stormed out of your apartment. The traffic was heavy and it took you more than an hour to reach the compound. Your stomach churned with anticipation as FRIDAY let you in.
Despite not being an Avenger, you knew the place by heart and it hardly changed during those 92 days. You climbed the stairs to the kitchen and practically barged into the room.
Bucky was the first person you saw. He was sitting at the kitchen table with Steve and Clint. He had to look twice to make sure it was really you. You were the last person he expected to see on the threshold of the kitchen.
The whole room was suddenly silent. Steve and Clint exchanged a look before they slipped away like shadows. Bucky’s eyes landed on the book in your hand, recognising it immediately. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.
You took a step closer and threw his diary on the kitchen table. It landed with a neat plop in front of him. Bucky ran his finger along the spines of the book, his heart thumping against his ribcage.
“Idiot.”
The insult made him look up at you, but he didn’t protest. You quickly avoided his eyes, those blue-grey orbs that made your insides melt without even trying.
“You love me. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Bucky worried his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes locked on the book in front of him. “It’s easier to write things down than to say them out loud.”
His voice was soft, low and filled with regret. It was almost enough to appease your anger. Almost.
“You made me think you never loved me.”
“I was protecting you.” He whispered.
“From what? From who?” Your voice was loud, but your tone was soft and pleading.
“From me.” He raised his head to stare at you with those shining blue eyes.
You stayed silent for a moment before you spoke again. “I’m not afraid of you.”
He scoffed, “You’ve never seen the Winter Soldier, doll. He’s still here,” He pointed his index finger to his temple. “Lurking inside my brain, waiting for me to lower my guard. When I’m alone with you, I feel like myself and if I’m not careful he’ll come back and ruin everything. I can’t lose you.”
“You broke up with me, Bucky. You already lost me.”
He cast his gaze down and smiled softly, “No, darlin’, believe me. You’re alive, it’s the only thing that matters. Losing you would crush me.”
You felt tears rush to your eyes and dug your fingernails into your palms. Bucky didn’t move when you approached the kitchen table.
“I know it’s hard for you to fight your instincts,” You said, running a hand through his short hair. “But I don’t need to be protected from you. The man you are now is the man I love. Selfless, caring, passionate, a bit of a dork.”
He chuckled quietly and raised his head to look at you. A ghost of a smile graced his lips, making your skin prickle with little goosebumps.
“Stop pushing me away and let me help you.”
“It’s a never-ending battle, doll. Can’t let you fight this with me.”
You took his hand and squeezed it tightly, “It will be a lot more difficult if you’re fighting it alone.”
His chest heaved once as he took a deep breath. He looked at you for a moment, gauging your expression.
“You’re one hell of a woman, y’know that?”
“Yeah, I remember reading somewhere that I was amazing.” You grinned, jutting your chin towards his journal.
The legs of his chair scraped against the floor as he stood up and rounded the table to stand next to you. Everything happened in a blink of an eye and you were not sure what to expect.
“There’s something I’ve never told you before,” He cupped your face. The contrast between his two palms made you close your eyes, a familiar warmth spread through your chest. “Something I should have told you a long time ago.”
You could hear the quiver in his voice. When you opened your eyes, your heart skipped a beat. His pale eyes were glassy, shinning with tears, but a slow smile spread across his lips.
“I love you.”
He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours delicately. You let him kiss you slowly, tenderly because it was what you both needed.
You felt tears fall down your cheeks, only it wasn’t your tears. Bucky’s tears fell on your cheekbones, running along the curve of your cheeks to the corners of your mouth.