"Punk!" Steve fell to the ground as his bully punched him, backhanding him across the face. He groaned in pain. The bully standing in front of him was five times his size, three years older, and his punch made Steve's body burn in pain. He wanted to cry. He wanted to let it out. He wanted to surrender to his fate. Despite this, despite the tears that had started to fill his eyes, he refused to let the tears out, not allowing the one who tormented him see his fear.
He knew that it was always important to look his best when he felt his worse.
"What are you, 4?" The bully taunted, smirking at Steve's petite form on the schoolyard ground. "No, um, I turn 7 this—" Steve muttered, and the bully kicked him right smack in his chest before he could finish his sentence. "SHUT UP!" the bully shouted. Don't cry... Steve thought to himself, You can't let him see you cry... you can't let anyone see you cry... But in spite of the constant reminders that Steve forced into his mind, he felt tears pricking his eyes, begging to be set free. "Oh, you gonna cry, you little baby?" The bully laughed condescendingly.
Steve shook his head, running his hands over his eyes to wipe away the tears that were threatening to flow. This happened every day he came to school, every time he stepped foot on the schoolyard. "All of your pocket money, now!" The bully demanded. Steve hurriedly complied, but his heart ached at the realisation that his mother's hard-earned money would be gone just like that. He hadn't eaten lunch for weeks, and he'd gotten even tinier.
"Hey!" A voice came from behind them. The bully swiftly turned his head to see another boy of the same height looking at him with seething rage. He was the total opposite of Steve, whose uniform was old and torn, whose hair was messy and dirty. His school uniform was neat and pressed, and his light brown hair was gelled back. His pocket was sagging under the weight of coins. He was dribbling a ball as he spoke, but swiftly put it down, readying himself for a fight as if this was what he did everyday. Steve stared. His new brown backpack was hanging from one shoulder, and Steve could see novels and textbooks peeking out of it. The boy was everything Steve wanted to be — brave, strong, tall, loyal... able to stand up to others without getting bullied too. The boy had sparkling steel blue eyes, and just like how the strongest fire is blue, his eyes burned stronger than the Sun. "Pick on someone your own size!"
The bully laughed. "Man, Rogers, looks like the most popular boy in his grade is here to rescue you." The boy clenched his fists. "Ooh, Barnes is mad," the bully taunted. The boy rolled his eyes. "I'm not afraid of fighting you," he muttered. The bully smirked.
In one swift motion, the boy punched the bully in the face before kicking him away from Steve. Biting his lips, Steve's bully growled before walking away, muttering something that sounded like, "Jerk," under his breath. The blue eyed boy smiled victoriously and walked up to Steve. "Hey."
"Hey," Steve whispered in reply, mesmerised by the boy's eyes. He smiled at Steve gently. His eyes had a mysterious quality, like a deep lake with many creatures that lurked under its murky surface. They were like a river that you could never see the bottom of. In his eyes, there was loyalty, and determination, but more than anything, there was a fire that reminded Steve of an endless field of stars. Steve loved his eyes.
"Here," the boy whispered. He reached into his sagging pocket and took out some coins. Steve gasped. The boy was offering him twice of what he had had. "It's okay. You can have the money. I don't need so much, and I don't want you to be hungry. My mum always gives me more than I can ever use, and I end up giving most of it to my sisters, but I still end up having extra. Take it," the boy urged innocently. Reluctantly, Steve took the money and placed it into his pocket. "Thank you so much," Steve whispered, and a single tear rolled down his cheek. "Don't worry about it," the boy smiled. "I'm Bucky."
