42 | 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐬

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𝙰𝙻𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙰 𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙵𝙵
2016, 𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚜𝚒𝚡

Welcome to a very sad day. My birthday. Other people love their birthday, and I normally did, but not this year. This year, Bucky and I were hiding in Romania for my birthday.

I was grateful, of course, not to be alone. And over the course of two weeks, I slowly got over my fear of hurting Bucky. I was still scared, as I should've been, but he helped me to realize that he'd love me no matter what.

Bucky had his thing which was, if he had a nightmare he'd sleep on the ground. I'd go with him. I had a new thing, that if I had a nightmare I'd sleep on the couch. Bucky slept on the floor beneath me. I guess we were both very stubborn.

Despite the looks and smells of the place, Bucky and I had made the place sort of feel like home. We spent our nights cooking together, and our days exploring the large city. I wouldn't have being hidden together any other way.

The Russian accent was still a thing, as it has grown on me. Thankfully, no body knew I existed, so I had the upper hand on hiding.

Bucky, however, was still scared of being recognized. It was a miracle that I could get him in public.

He prefers to stay inside, like right now. That's my birthday plan, to stay in the apartment and be depressed.

Bucky was showering, and sadness courses through me as I ate sad pancakes for breakfast, fiddling with my dragonfly necklace.

I looked at my pancakes, playing with them out of boredom. Bucky came out of the bathroom, and walked over to me sadly once he saw what I was doing.

He sat down in front of me, before he said, "What are you doing?"

I looked at him like he was nuts, which he was. "Playing with my food." I said like it was no big deal. "Just get rid of the '2' from '26' and it's reasonable." I told him.

He frowned at me. "Okay. I know you have the birthday blues, considering everything about your birthday this year, but you can still have some fun." Bucky told me. I know he meant well, but it was just weird to me. Normally I was the one motivating him, and now the tables have turned. I must be really pathetic.

I pushed my plate away, and folded my arms on the table, before leaning on them. "Okay, Mr. Motivater. How do you figure I do that?" I asked him, seeing the corners of his lips turn up slightly.

He pulled out an object from under the table, wrapped in newspaper. "With this." Bucky said mysteriously, handing me the object.

I took it from him and sat up, examining it. "Is it a bomb?" I asked sarcastically, smirking as I did so.

Bucky smirked back. "Maybe." He winked.

I rolled my eyes jokingly before unwrapping the object from the newspaper. It was a book, a book I had wanted to read for a very long time. The Great Gatsby, to be exact.

I smiled when I saw it. "How did you get this?" I asked him, sort of in shock. Bucky and I didn't buy anything for ourselves, only necessities in cash. "You didn't steal it, did you?" I asked again, noticing how he hestitated on speaking.

He chuckled lightly, before ending my anticipation. "No, I didn't steal it. I saw it, one day in the market and remembered that you said you wanted it. So I, grabbed it, and overpayed for it. Do you like it?" He asked me nervously.

Mother Nature ||| Bucky BarnesWhere stories live. Discover now