Bring Me Home // Bucky Barnes

Chapter LXXI - This One

The scent of honeysuckle and bergamot permeated the air as champagne fizzed and bubbled on the small marble table before him. Steve sat lost in a cloud of chiffon and organza, silk and lace. Ivories and brilliant whites, muted pinks and hints of yellow peaked from the walls of voile and he looked around, searching for a semblance of sense in the sea of material.

Soft music played overhead, simple and calming in its beauty, as women floated between dressing rooms, arms filled with swathes of fabric, all intended to be beautiful, most simply overwhelming.

Steve glanced behind him and towards the door, growing more and more uncomfortable with every moment he sat on the small, blush pink loveseat. In the weeks that had passed since Loki's arrival things had all moved so quickly that he hadn't had a moment to process when she told him he would need to go with her. He had simply said yes. He always said yes to what Lizzie wanted really. But now? Sitting in the middle of the vast room where whispered conversations passed between giggling shop assistants sneaking looks at Captain America awkwardly holding a crystal champagne flute and tapping his foot anxiously as he waited for her to appear? Right now he realised he probably said yes too quickly.

"Sweetheart?" He mock whispered as he got to his feet and moved towards the curtain between them. He stepped around the platform she would step onto, careful not to knock the freestanding mirror placed perfectly for her beside him, and leant against the wall. "You need to actually come out of there for me to form an opinion."

"I'm. Not. Coming. Out." Each word was punctuated by a grunt and the sound of tulle shuffling around in the small space Elizabeth was now cramped into.

Steve chuckled as he took another sip of his champagne, glancing over at the nearest shop assistant who waited silently close by. Her eyes dropped instantly and he shook his head.

"I look like a cake topper." Lizzie grumbled, poking her head out of the curtain and meeting Steve's amused eyes. "This is stupid."

"Lizzie, honey. Are you sure Nat and Wanda wouldn't have been better for this? I can call Nat. Get them here in ten. Twenty max?"

"Don't you dare." Elizabeth ripped the curtain open, stepping forwards as if to tell Steve off only for his eyes to widen and a grin to spread across his face. She paused momentarily, watching as he bit back his laughter and her shoulders began to shake as he did. "It's bad, isn't it?"

"So bad Lizzie."

Elizabeth stomped her way over to the loveseat and slumped down, drowning in the Princess skirt of the gown she wore, pushing down layers of puffy white and huffing as more layers seemed to poof up around her.

"I'm never going to find a dress."

The woman from before rushed over to where Lizzie sat sulking and immediately passed her the glass that had been perched on the table before.

"Oh no Miss Stark," she bubbled, immediately moving to action, trying to keep her sale from walking out the door; her commission with it, "we'll find something absolutely perfect for you. Perhaps not the Princess dress though. It swamps a small frame like yours. Maybe A-Line if you want a more flowing fit? Or mermaid if you're looking for something more hugging?"

"Is it bad if I don't have a clue what I want?" Lizzie chewed her lip as the woman stood before her, tapping ideas into a tablet in her hands. "And it's Lizzie, by the way, Lizzie Halsted. Stark's-"

"Paying." Steve shrugged as he interrupted her, grinning when the assistant blushed and apologised profusely.

"I'm so sorry Miss Halsted, I just assumed because of the card and the booking. I should have asked."