verb.
To come or go back to a place or person.
noun.
The firing of a weapon to counter a shooter's shot.
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They recoiled from their pasts, and in doing so found each other.
But the universe isn't kind enough to let a moment of peace last.
It took se...
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Salt, there was salt on the wind. Burnt sugar and oil and the coppery tang of pennies all filled his senses as he tugged at the starched collar of his shirt uncomfortably.
Why was he uncomfortable? Why was there sweat beading at the nape of his neck even as a cool breeze danced over his face? His shoes felt too tight, his toes pinched by polished leather, laced with military precision...
Ah, his new uniform. Of course, it itched and creased in all the wrong places because he had barely worn it in yet – the neckline felt too tight and the jacket held his shoulders so rigidly but maybe that was a good thing, he'd have to watch his posture in the army after all. He had been so excited, so proud to be seen wearing it that it hadn't mattered that morning that the tie against his throat had felt unfamiliar enough to make him constantly aware of it. It hadn't mattered, not when his mother had looked so proud, flicking an imagined piece of lint from his shoulder before he ducked out the door for... For...
He was forgetting something. Some little scratching sensation in the corner of his mind told him that. There was something he couldn't remember, something he was supposed to do...
Looking over his shoulder, as if the answer would present itself to him, his ear caught the sounds of squealing children, the clatter of metal over metal and a rush of wind, the jaunty melodies of mechanical organs grinding out their tunes... Of course, Coney Island. The brightly painted signs of food stalls, the churn of carousels, the steady creak of the big wheel towering above it all and the screams from the Cyclone a little beyond that... He knew exactly where he was. The clamour of people was familiar, the accents the sounds of home. How he got here though, he couldn't say. It was as if he had simply landed here, his feet planted upon the ground... It felt like he hadn't been here in a long time... Perhaps that was what he had forgotten.
No- No he had taken the bus, of course he had. That was how he and Steve had always gotten here...
Steve... He spun around himself again at the thought of his friend, frowning at his absence. What was he doing here without Steve? Or his sister – what was he doing here alone? Why would he bother coming all this way by himself?
"Hey, Bucky!"
A call of his name dragged him around once more, keeping him spinning on his heel like a top – until his eyes landed on the source of the call, catching on the view of a hand waving to him over the crowd.
His breath stilled on his tongue as he watched her duck out of the line for an ice cream stand, those dazzling, starlit grey eyes locking with his, her feet hurrying to meet him with the most knockout smile breaking across her lips. He knew her, he knew her-
"Kat..." He breathed her name as he shook himself from his speechless stupor, reaching to catch her in his arms and dragging her into his chest like a man deranged. It had been so long- he hadn't seen her, held her in so long-
