"do you trust me?"
brooklyn baby;
PHILADELPHIA | 2014
SAFE HOUSE
The next day, I felt the most frustration I'd felt in a while. Trying to help Bucky with his Wakandan was like trying to teach him a whole new language-despite him already being able to speak it.
"Enkosi," I repeated, for what felt like the hundredth time. I sat across from Bucky on the floor, the two of us sharing a tub of ice cream. "You pronounce it like you've never spoke the language before."
"I wasn't exactly taught by a native speaker," Bucky defended himself, taking a bite of ice cream. "Enkosee," he tried saying again.
"No," I laughed. "You're putting too much emphasis on the ending of the word. The click of the 'k' is most important. Enkosi," I explained to him.
"Enkosi," he pronounced correctly, before repeating himself.
I smiled, clapping my hands, "You got it." I went to take a bite of ice cream, and our spoons clinked before he took a scoop, making me laugh. "You know, if you take that bite, it's like you're indirectly kissing me."
Bucky rolled his eyes, "How terrible," he said sarcastically before placing the spoon in his mouth. I gently laughed once more before taking a bite of my own.
"If you weren't taught by a native speaker, who taught you?" I asked.
He sighed, "Hydra."
"What others do you know?"
"Spanish, Portuguese, German, Russian, Latin, Romanian, and Japanese," Bucky listed.
My eyes widened, and I gave him an impressed nod. "You'd be able to run away to quite a few countries."
Bucky gently laughed at that, making me smile. The first time I heard him laugh.
"You should learn them too then," he told me. I tilted my head, giving him a questioning look. "What, you wouldn't want to come with me?"
I laughed, rolling my eyes. "Of course not."
I took one last bite of ice cream, before standing up to put my spoon in the sink. I walked around him, picking up the ice cream, before placing it back in the freezer. "By the way, you-" When I turned around, he was close. Really close. "You should..." he leaned past me, dropping his spoon in the sink before turning back around.
"What were you saying?" He asked obliviously.
I cleared my throat before saying, "You should rest soon."
"It's five p.m."
"You didn't sleep last night," I stated. "Or the night before that."
"I'm not tired," he argued, raising an eyebrow as our eyes met.
I took a deep breath, deciding not to argue any further. "Fair enough."
"Is Naeemah your real name?" He suddenly asked.
"The name my father gave me is K'Miri," I answered.
"K'Miri," he repeated. "Do you mind if I call you that?" He asked. I shrugged.
I then began straightening up the kitchen and living room, attempting to occupy myself to pass time. However, instead of helping, Bucky just sat there, legs spread on the couch, watching me.
"Can I help you?" I asked, crossing my arms. Bucky shrugged, shaking his head. "If you're bored, go take a walk."
"A walk?"
I nodded, "Yes, James. A walk."
Bucky sighed, standing up and stretching his arms. "Will you come with?"
༻✿༺
Our feet move asynchronously, due to me being shorter than him, and his habit to naturally walk fast. "You know, Rogers...he's going to look for you."
"I hoped he wouldn't," Bucky admitted. "Not yet."
"How come?" I looked up at him.
"There are still significant parts of me that I just...don't remember," Bucky began. "I spent decades just killing for Hydra. The rest of my life, I don't even remember."
"That wasn't you," I came to a stop, placing my hand on his arm. He rolled his eyes, dismissing the comment. "You can't blame yourself for something that was out of your control."
He scoffed, looking away. "Yeah, right."
"I'm serious," I pressed, stepping in front of him so he couldn't walk away. "I said I'd help you, I'm not going to watch you tear yourself apart over what the Winter Soldier did."
"I am the Winter Soldier."
"You were," I corrected. "Enough about it." We began walking again, in an awkward silence. It was as if Bucky let me win the conversation, just so that I'd be quiet.
Why did I overstep like that? It's not like me to speak out of turn, especially to someone I hardly know.
"Is that a cemetery up ahead?" Bucky spoke, catching my attention.
"Yeah, we can turn back around if you want," I offered. "It is getting dark. Unless you...wanted to go to the cemetery."
Bucky shrugged, "Why not?" I opened my mouth to speak, but simply went forward with him until we reaches a set of gates. Bucky pushed one side open, and offered for me to go first, but I shook my head. "Are you scared?" He asked, going in first.
"Cemeteries creep me out," I admitted, walking close to him.
"How come?" Bucky leaned down, "It's the safest place in the world," he said. Suddenly, a crow flew from a tree, making me jump and shift closer to Bucky. He held his arm out, letting me hold it as we walked. "You're never alone."
"I've never thought about it that way," I hummed.
"Can I ask you something?" Bucky suddenly spoke after some time if silence.
"Sure."
"And you actually have to give me an answer this time. You can't just smile and change the subject," Bucky continued, making me laugh.
"I do not do that."
"Yes, you do," Bucky insisted. "Anyways, how come you didn't go through Hydra's database? You didn't look for any information on me yesterday."
I furrowed my eyebrows. "Why would I?"
"Well, when one offers shelter to another, one usually likes to know whom they're offering shelter to," Bucky elaborated.
"I mean, of course I want to know you, but, I don't know, I assumed there'd be some stuff there-stuff I'd rather you tell me because you trust me, not because I don't trust you."
"Do you trust me?" Bucky asked, turning to look at me. At my lack of answer, his footsteps stopped, and the arm I was holding was retracted. "Do you?"
I looked up at him before smiling gently. "Yeah, I do." I sighed. He held his arm out for me to take again, which I gladly did, as we were still making our way through the cemetery.
I wasn't exactly that scared anymore, until we reached the gates again, and they'd been closed back. "Strange," Bucky stated.
"Wait," my grip on his arm tightened as he went forward to open it again. "I didn't hear anyone else in the cemetery."
"It's a pretty big cemetery, maybe they went a different way than us," Bucky shrugged. "Plus, it's late, visiting hours are probably over."
"You're probably right..."
When Bucky went to push the gate open, there was a clink of metal, and Bucky was proven right by the closed lock that held the gates closed.
"We can climb over," I suggested.
"Or I could just.." He raised his left arm to destroy the lock, and I slapped his right one in response. "What?" I simply furrowed my eyebrows and shook my head. "Oh my god, you are so paranoid," Bucky groaned before bringing his fist down on the lock, breaking it open and pushing one of the gates open.
As soon as they were out of the cemetery, I quickly clung to Bucky again. "What is it now?" Bucky mumbled.
"I dont like the dark," I admitted. "I'm not used to it."
"Really?" Bucky dragged out the word, almost in a teasing way. "You're afraid of the dark?"
"Is something funny?"
Bucky cleared his throat, "No, not at all."
My hold on Bucky's arm tightened slightly, and I lightly leaned against him as we continued walking. "Are you okay? Are you getting tired?"
I nodded. "Are you okay?" I returned the question.
"Yeah," he nodded. "I'm good."
"You hardly sound convincing," I commented. "If you smiled more-" my sentence was cut short when I tripped, feeling something stab into my leg. "Shit!" I cursed, letting go of Bucky to catch myself.
"What happened? Are you okay?"
"I-ow, I stepped on something," I winced, taking my phone from my pocket to use the flash. It was nothing but a stick, but due to the fact that I'd been wearing shorts, the cut was pretty harsh. I let out an annoyed sigh.
"That looks bad," Bucky commented.
I rolled my eyes. "You know what? My leg hurts too bad, I need you to carry me."
"Not happening."
Dramatically, I leaned on Bucky, and he instinctively caught me in his arms, before sighing in defeat. "Fine."
༻✿༺
"I'm never doing that again, by the way," Bucky stated, cleaning my bloody leg as I sat above him on the kitchen counter.
I only laughed, before focusing on his left arm, listening to the small sounds it made as he maneuvered it. "Is your arm heavy?"
"Which one?"
I rolled my eyes, "You know which one."
Bucky shrugged, "A little. I'm used to it," he answered.
"Wait, what are you doing?" I asked, watching him open an unfamiliar, brown bottle.
"I'm cleaning the cut," he answered in a 'duh' tone. I pulled my leg back as he went to pour the liquid. "It's just hydrogen peroxide."
"Is it going to burn?" I asked.
"Yes," he answered, turning the bottle again, watching me retract my leg. "You're such a child, it's not even that bad."
I winced as he poured the peroxide on the cut, watching the blood turn a bubbly white liquid, before dissolving.
Bucky sighed, replacing the cap to the hydrogen peroxide and standing up. He took the gauze from the counter and wrapped my leg.
I gently smiled, noting how careful, and how gentle he was being. He finished up, and placed the container back in the fridge. He didn't say anything, and simply returned to the couch to lay down.
Times like these I wished I could read minds.
I wish he would just talk to me.
<3
word count: 1848