ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴀᴠɪᴏʀ ━ Bucky Barnes/Avengers

26: we're all different

Hello guyssss! I'm back from the dead lol. Sorry I haven't been able to update for almost two months. I wasn't feeling very motivated and needed time off of wattpad. I'm back now so I decided to continue the story :). I plan for a sequel hopefully after this about Endgame so... ^v^

Anyways, I'm back now so enjoy!!

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"I think I already have."

I stare at him for a second, blinking in surprise by his confession. Was he serious? Or was this the old, teasing Bucky speaking to me right now?

Not knowing his sincerity, I slap his arm in response instead. If I hadn't, the warmth on my cheeks would have heated up even more.

He winces in response, holding his arm where I hit him. "Ow!" He chuckles at the same time, "What was that for?"

"Don't say things like that." I frown.

"Why?" I ignore his question and continued healing the wounds on his body. I try my best to hide my still flushed cheeks, but him staring at me with an annoying smirk on his face doesn't help one bit. "Did it make your heart flutter?"

I pause and dropped my hands, "Are you sure you were an assassin? I swear it's like '43 all over again."

"Some things never change, Adams." He winks.

I roll my eyes and threw the towel right at his face and stood up, earning a laugh from him, "Go take a damn shower, you smell like mud." I was about to leave the room but he grabs me by the wrist.

"Hey hold on, I'm just teasing!" He laughs. I glared at him, enough to make him unsteady. He pouts and holds out his arm, "I have a cut right here that hurts." I take a moment to glare at him before huffing and sitting back down on the bed, this time closing his wounds with my hands.

He watches my every movement. By glancing I could see his eyes focused on the frost coming out of my fingers, admiring every single detail of it. Then he faces me.

"You're getting better at this." He says.

"What do you mean?"

He points at my hands, "I mean this power stuff. Controlling them."

I scrunch a brow, "Wait, how do you know... did Steve..?" He nods in reply, making me release a sigh. Of course he did. Bucky is his best friend after all, and Steve is my family. I eye Bucky, who continues to be fascinated by my work, "I've always had trouble controlling them back then, and I never really wanted to use them."

"Why not?"

I shrug, "Fear? I don't know. It's complicated."

Bucky suddenly reaches for my hands, stopping them from moving and holding them with his own. "You can tell me."

I let out a huff, brushing my hands through my hair. I never had a chance to have a deep conversation with Bucky about myself yet and now is the perfect time for it.

"Its not that I'm afraid of hurting people, I'm strong enough for that," I start, "I just don't know who I am at all." I take a look at my palms and scoff, "When I look at these hands, I can only see them as what my father had created. A weapon. An experiment. I would ask myself, 'What am I supposed to be?' and 'What am I supposed to do?' And each time I have no answer. It's like I'll never get them."

Bucky releases a light chuckle, "I guess we both have the same questions we don't have answers for."

I chuckle too, "I guess so."