XXXIII. This Is The Best I Can Do

8.5K 307 86
                                    

It was nearing one in the afternoon in Bucharest. Connie worked diligently at the stove as she tried to make lunch for her and Bucky. One thing she was definitely going to have to do was re-teach Bucky how to cook. If she remembered correctly, he was a much better cook than she ever was, Steve included, but it was because of them she forced herself to learn how to cook. She wondered if he did remember but was just not sharing the information with her. It definitely wouldn't surprise her if that were the case.

Connie jumped slightly as she felt a pair of arms wrap around her, though she smiled as she realized it was only Bucky.

"That smells good," Bucky hummed as he squeezed her tighter, burying his face into her neck.

"It better."

Connie giggled and turned away from her station long enough to plant a kiss onto Bucky's lips. She moved to pull away from him, but he wouldn't allow her, much to her amusement. Since they had experienced their first time together in over seventy years, it was hard for Bucky to leave her alone. It was almost as if every single thing he felt for her had been restored in that single instance. She was everything to him, and that included a pain in the ass and an ever-so permanent headache. Bucky didn't mind it at all, however. He was just happy to have her.

"I would actually like to eat this time, Bucky," Connie teased as finally managed to pull away from him.

"Listen, the second time was your own fault," Bucky remarked, hopping up to sit on the counter beside the stove-top.

"I was feeling lazy."

Bucky scoffed threw a piece of shrimp into his mouth. "Obviously not lazy enough."

"Shut up," Connie laughed.

She switched the stove off and began filling up two bowls with shrimp scampi, and once she had done so, she handed Bucky his, which he took happily.

"I have a question for you," Connie said as she walked into the loft, Bucky following closely behind her.

"What?" he replied with a mouth full of food.

Connie only shook her head at his lack of patience and sat down on the couch. "Do you remember how to cook?"

Bucky stopped eating and looked at her, letting out a small laugh before he continued shoving noodles and seafood into his mouth. "Uh, I don't believe I do," he lied.

"You're a liar," Connie muttered.

"Okay, you caught me," Bucky breathed out. "But I don't know how to do everything. I could fix very small things if I concentrated hard enough, but you're just doing such a good job I decided you didn't necessarily need to know."

Connie hummed and placed a forkful of food into her mouth, only answering him after she had swallowed. "You could have told me and I could have helped you, because odds are, I'm now a much better chef than you and Steve would be together."

"If I remember correctly, if it wasn't for the both of us, you wouldn't know how to cook in the first place," Bucky remarked.

"You're not wrong, but I've had plenty of practice over the last six years or so," Connie informed him. "When Steve and I lived together, I was the one cooking for the both of us, so my words still remain true—I am a much better chef than you and Steve would be together."

"Whatever you say, Connie."

The two continued eating in silence. About ten minutes later, Connie collected their dishes and took them back to the kitchen, while Bucky stayed seated on the couch. Connie worked quietly on cleaning out the dishes, though she was forced to stop as a peculiar beeping sound met her eardrums. Her brows furrowed in confusion and she released her hold on the bowl in her hand, grabbing a towel from the countertop to dry her hands off.

Battlefield ★ Bucky BarnesWhere stories live. Discover now