𝐈𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫, 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐭.
†††
The infamous Winter Soldier and Morana are assigned on a mission once more, but things don't go as planned for them this time. To survive, they confront emoti...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
TW: Fighting. I think this is the longest chapter of this story, so have fun reading! (Almost 4000 words)
[DARKSIDE - Neoni] 1:40 ─〇───── 2:13 ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻
Beverly's POV
The car comes to a halt, stopping in front of another, smaller car with a blonde woman standing next to it, her hood covering her face. My knees are pushed up against the backseat and the car door, Bucky's legs so wide that they're pushing me up against the door. But, I barely notice, too engrossed in watching the conversation between Steve and the blonde lady outside of the car's progress. They look familiar to each other.
As they talk, I see both Sam and Bucky glaring at each other through the rear-view mirror, silently arguing over something. Breaking the silence, his low voice echoed in the small car.
"Can you move your seat up?" He asks Sam as the lady opens the boot of her car.
"No." Sam doesn't move a muscle.
The boot door opens fully, revealing Steve's shield, shiny and large, and Sam's suit, practical and rustic. The lady leans against the door, engaged in her conversation with Steve. Sam looks back in the rear-view mirror, watching Bucky closely. He turns in his seat, looking down at Bucky's legs.
"Why don't you move? You're practically squishing Beverly." He argues.
"Oh, sorry doll." Bucky looks at me, apologetically. He shifts in his seat, moving closer to his door.
With more room now, I move my legs into the centre of my footrest, my knees being able to relax now that they're not stiff with the angle they were in. I place my hand on Bucky's thigh, making him look at me. He looks nervous, but when he sees admiration in my eyes, his face relaxes.
Outside of the car, Steve and the lady are watching each other's faces, staring into each other's eyes. Their lips stop moving, their conversation ceasing, but it doesn't look awkward. It looks natural. Steve steps closer to her, pulling her in for a kiss. She places one of her hands behind his head, holding his neck, as the other sits on his chest. He holds her waist, holding her close to him.
When they pull away from each other, she says her goodbyes, walking back into her car. Steve stands there with a proud smile on his face, looking back at our car, and smiling at us three. The two boys smile back at him, looking pleased. An uncontrollable smirk plays on my face, a part of me feeling happy that Steve did that. A small memory tells me that the now older and bigger Steve is so different to his younger and smaller self. He would have never been able to talk to a woman, let alone kiss one.
With his head, Steve motions for us to get out of the car, which we do. I open my door, swinging my legs out, but before I can stand, Bucky appears next to me. He grabs my hand, helping me out of the car. We both know that I didn't need help, but it's an excuse to touch without it being weird or making the others uncomfortable. As we close the car doors, a van pulls up beside us, another man exiting the driver's seat.
