The mascara wand drags through my lashes one more time as if that would lock the entirety of my eye makeup together. Hair is done, as per usual, curled, makeup is done and now all that's left is getting dressed. Which, I'm dreading, how in the hell am I going to know what to wear?
I frown at my reflection, feeling a hole opening up in my chest letting in a feeling I know all too well; loss. I shut my eyes and breathe for a moment, willing it to go away. This day will be good. This day will go well. I gasp and drop the makeup in my hands when I feel a sharp poke in my side.
"Any day now, doll," Bucky says through a grin, pleased at my reaction. I glare at him as I pick up the mascara and lip gloss I dropped on the floor.
I groan as I stand back up. "Will you get out?" I chuckle, "I can't get ready with you in here." I gesture toward the door but he just crosses his arms, making me huff out a breath.
"Why not?" He raises a brow at me and I choke back a laugh, somehow feeling more nervous around him than I have in a long time.
I return to cleaning up my mess, seeing him like a stone wall that I can't get through. I check my hair and brush past him into my bedroom. He leans against the bathroom doorframe, his eyes straying up and down my body. Though I'm in a tank top and shorts, I feel as though I should cover up somehow with the blush heating over my cheeks. "You're distracting," I huff as I stomp into my closet.
He's all ready to go, as it usually is for men and dates. It must be so simple for them. I pick through the hangers of clothes, nothing seems like the perfect outfit to wear. This is our official first date, after all. "And it doesn't help that you never told me what we're doing!" I add as I rake through the hangers, not sure if I should dress up or down for the occasion.
"Don't you like surprises?" His voice echoes in my ears and I push out a breath.
I poke my head out of my closet, seeing him still standing against the doorframe. His eyes find mine and I give him a passive smile. "I'm not particularly fond of them," I grumble. I take in what he's wearing to try and find some clue as to what I should wear. He's wearing his usual attire, a black leather jacket, dark wash jeans, a black t-shirt, and his gloves. I sigh as I go back to sorting through my clothes. That was no help at all. I pull a black mini dress from the rack and inspect it, it's casual but not too casual. I huff out a breath, knowing he's still in my room and shut the door to the closet to change.
I pull the dress on while adjusting the sleeves and grab a pair of black heeled boots. I turn in the mirror, trying to make sure the dress isn't twisted and the boots are zipped up all the way before leaving. I grab a thin jacket that reaches my mid-thighs, just in case it's cooler out than I expect it to be. I pull my arm through the jacket as I walk back into my bedroom. "So, where are we going?" I ask, huffing out a breath when my sleeve gets stuck on my forearm.
I narrow my eyes at him as he stares at me, looking at every point on my body. He lets out a sigh and his mouth forms into a grin. "Still a surprise. But-" He stands from my bed and makes his way over to me, making the room feel infinitely smaller. He stops just inches away from me. "I think I may have had an influence on the way you dress." He finishes his sentence as his hand wanders down my coat, the corners of his lips turning up.
"And is that a good thing or a bad thing?" I ask, looking up at him through my lashes. My breathing turns heavy as his hands grip my waist, pulling my hips flush against him.
He lets out a breathy chuckle as his eyes finally meet mine. "I guess we'll find out," he mumbles, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the door. I stumble after him and somehow get a handle on my purse before we leave the room.
"What're you doing?" I chuckle when I see him press the number to the floor of the garage.
He shrugs and takes slow steps behind me. I suppress a smile as his arms snake around my waist and his warm breath fans over my ear. "I thought we could drive, it's a nice night."
Goosebumps erupt over my arms as he speaks and I smirk. "Is it really that or is it because you don't want me to know where we're going?" I wrap my arms around his and look up at him.
He sighs but pulls me further into his chest and shrugs. "That too."
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I stifle a laugh when Bucky runs ahead of me to get to the passenger door first. He opens it with a small bow and gestures for me to climb in. A giddy smile plays on my lips when I see this is the car I took the day I went to see Strange. Grand theft auto of my boyfriend's car, I guess.
Do I call him my boyfriend?
"Why, thank you," I sigh as I slide into the seat, admiring the smell of leather and his cologne mixed with it. It's intoxicating. The ride is calming, the windows are down slightly, letting a cool night breeze into the car that sways my hair into my face from time to time.
I feel content, sitting in the car with Bucky. A feeling I never thought I would ever experience. Bucky gives me vague hints about where we're going, it's not incredibly formal, it's not a well-known place, and it's something he wants to share with me. I wrack my brain for any type of restaurant or movie that he could be taking me to but I doubt an Olive Garden would be this meaningful to keep secret.
I watch the trees passing by us turn into buildings, the dark streets become illuminated by the lights of the city. "Where are we going?" I say through a nervous laugh, tilting my head to look at him.
He eyes me for a moment before sliding his hand over my thigh and resting it on my knee. "You'll see when we get there." He smirks as he looks back to the road, knowing he's pressed my curiosity further.
I chew on my lip, thinking over my life and the events that have gotten me here, now. "You know-" I say but debate with myself on finishing the sentence. "I've never actually been on a date before."
His eyes widen for a moment as he diverts his eyes from the road to look at me. Almost silently asking a 'really?'. I nod at him and fidget in my seat, a bit embarrassed at my confession. This man has lived more lifetimes than I ever will and has most probably been on many dates in his time before HYDRA. "I'm honored to be the first," he says so low I almost didn't hear him.
I bite my lip to keep the smile from forming on my lips. I never get tired of hearing him say things like that, it's always the same reaction; my cheeks heat up, my stomach flutters, pins and needles spread out across my arms, and no matter what I do my lips crack open into the widest smile I've ever had. It's like he's poisoning me, metaphorically, of course, he's invaded every crack in my life. My mind, my body, my work, everything.
And I have no protests, I'll gladly drink the poison that is Bucky Barnes. Whether it boils my body from the inside out or makes my organs shut down, there's no one else like him.
I hum and shake my leg under his hand, growing restless. "Can you give me a hint?" I smile as his eyes roll over to look at me, I'm getting on his nerves- Which is strange, it gives me a sense of accomplishment to break the cold exterior just a bit, even to get on his nerves and make him irritated. It's a bit fun, actually.
It's a lot of fun if I'm being completely transparent.
"You're very impatient," he mumbles as his fingers tap on my knee.
I smirk at him and tuck my hair behind my ear. "Driving is not my usual method of transportation if you don't recall."
"It'll be worth it, I promise." His fingers tighten around my knee, forcing my leg to stop bouncing. He sighs when he sees the look of pure impatience plastered onto my face. "There's music," he grumbles.
"That's it? That's all you're going to give me?" I scoff and direct my eyes back at the windshield. "Must be highly classified," I say in a mocking tone.
He chuckles at my stubbornness. "I won't let you have any drinks, either."
"Is that another hint?" I ask, like a child who just got handed a cookie, excitement straddles my voice.
He sighs in exasperation. "Nadya, relax, please."
I sink back into my seat and try to listen to the soft music playing through the radio, trying to focus on the tries grinding against the asphalt. Nothing can calm my racing mind, trying to figure out what we're doing, where we're going, who's going to be there, every single detail.
Ⓐ Ⓐ Ⓐ Ⓐ
My eyes widen as he pulls the car into a darkened parking lot with cars littered in every other spot. It's empty, ominous. He parks the car in a far spot and opens his door and I purse my lips, trying to hold back any apprehensions.
"What's wrong?" He asks, his voice laced with concern.
I shake my head and smile at him, my excitement has died down to an ember of anxiety. Which, I guess is how dates go, however, I wouldn't know. I clear my throat and step out of the car onto the concrete, breathing in the cool breeze that flows through my hair. I round the car and meet Bucky at the back of it, lacing my hand through his upper arm, feeling the hard metal under his jacket. A chuckle slips past my lips as we begin to walk and he locks the car.
"What?" He asks, fighting a smile of his own. I cover my mouth and shake my head, trying to force down the joke I want to so badly say. "What is it?" He asks, laughing along with me now.
I take a deep breath and clear my throat, sighing in the darkness. "I was just thinking, you know... dark parking lot, no one around..." I trail off but I can see his eyes wandering and waiting for me to continue.
"And?"
I roll my eyes and tighten my grip on his arm. "You know, Barnes if you wanted to kill me you didn't have to drive so far to do it."
"Ah," he sighs and laughs a bit. "Not now, but maybe later."
My brows furrow at his words but then they register in my completely lagging mind. My cheeks turn a bright red and I find myself thankful for the cover the darkness is giving me. My heels click against the concrete as Bucky pulls me around the back of the building we parked at.
My mind is completely blank on what we're doing and where we are. We come to a door that's barely illuminated by the sultry lightbulb placed next to it. I purse my lips and force air into my lungs, feeling my legs begin to turn to Jell-O.
"I hope you're ready," Bucky says, smirking at me as his hand reaches for the door handle.
I hold my breath as he swings the door open and my mouth drops. He did not. How did he? "How did you find a place like this?" I ask, breathless as I take a step inside, my eyes not leaving the extravagance of the room. Once the door shuts behind us, my ears begin to work again. A song I know fondly echoes around the venue, sung by a live band. The floor is a beige marble and it smells of leather mixed with citrus.
My breathing hitches when Bucky's hands wrap around my shoulders, removing my coat and pressing a chaste kiss to my clothed shoulder. "When you live as long as I have, you learn a thing or two."
I run my hand along the red velvet lining the in-walled seats and look back to him, finding him watching my every move. "I didn't even know these existed, anymore," I gush, watching his face melt from concern to relief.
"A speakeasy, Bucky? I can't believe it," I continue as my eyes continue to wander each and every surface of the venue. It's crowded with people, holding different types of glasses all filled with different colored liquids. The bartenders are busy, shaking and pouring different drinks into martini glasses and crystal pint glasses.
"Do you like it?" His voice pours into my thoughts like silk and I smile.
I turn around and wrap my arms around his neck. "I love it," I whisper, pressing my lips against his, softly. I pull away and sigh. "But, I hope you do know you can't bring me to a place like this and expect me not to have at least one drink."
His eyes shoot open and I giggle at his response. "Yeah, we'll see. Come on, let's go sit down." He pulls my hand over to a booth in the far corner. I slide into the velvet-covered seat and find myself engrossed in the wealth excreting from everything in the room.
"I'll be right back." I nod at him and watch him walk over to the glass bar, lined with expensive-looking bottles. I scan the room and smile a bit when I see some couples dancing to the slow but sultry song. I'm definitely under-dressed for the occasion. If I had known this was the type of place we were going to, I would have worn something completely different.
My eyes spring open when I hear something, something so faint I wasn't able to completely catch it. A thought, a small thought that was in a voice that I recognized. "One drink." I gasp slightly when Bucky slides into the booth next to me, sliding a martini glass over to me and holding a small pint glass in his hand.
I let out a breath and pick up the glass, eyeing its contents. The blue liquid smells sweet but much like liquor and it has a drop of purple lying at the bottom of the glass. "And what is the said drink?" I ask, biting back a grin as he sips his drink.
He leans close to me and brushes my hair down my back. "A sapphire martini," he whispers into my ear and I roll my eyes.
"Ha-ha," I scoff, nudging his shoulder away from me. "You're really intent on not letting me drink, aren't you?"
He shakes his head. "Just thought the name was fitting."
"And what are you drinking?" I gesture to his glass resting on the table.
"Something much tamer than that," he jokes and I raise my eyebrows at him. "Bourbon," he answers and I nod.
I glare at the drink, my mood turning sour unintentionally. I chew on my lip and listen to the music, observe the couples swaying to the slow beat of it, and take in the atmosphere. "Just try it," Bucky says, pouting his lip and I roll my eyes. "Please."
"Fine," I sneer and pick the glass up and bring it to my lips. If I'm being honest, I wanted to hate it, I wanted to hate it so bad that it would sit there all night collecting dust. However, that is not the case. It's sweet and tastes of citrus with a bit of sour mixed with it. I set it back down and lean back into the seat, already feeling the alcohol warm my veins. I clear my throat. "It's not horrible."
He laughs, loudly and I roll my eyes yet again. "You like it," he mutters as he brings his glass to his lips.
"Was this what it was really like back then?" I ask, in awe of the class and elegance bestowed in the venue.
He clears his throat. "I wouldn't know, considering I was only about five years old when speakeasys' started to become a thing." I cringe at my lack of knowledge and he laughs, resting his hand on my thigh under the table. "I'm sure it was a bit different than this, though."
"I like the music," I hum and lean my head on his shoulder.
"That's one thing I loved about it back then." I smile at his words, feeling them warm my chest. "That and the dancing."
My head springs off of his shoulder and I look at him in absolute awe. The Winter Soldier. Bucky Barnes. Seargent Barnes...dances?
"You're kidding me, right?" He narrows his eyes at my words and I chuckle. "I have tried to get you to dance in the past and you were like a wall of concrete and now you're telling me you danced?"
The look of regret on his face is priceless. "Well, it was different back then-"
"No," I interrupt him and take another sip of my drink. "You owe me a dance tonight, Barnes." I wink at him and he rolls his eyes, definitely regretting saying anything at all about his past of dancing.
"You might have to get me drunk for that," he mumbles and I glare at him.
"Super soldiers can't get drunk," I reply and he smirks. Now, he's the one enjoying my irritation. His hand slides up my thigh and he sighs as he leans closer to me.
"That's my point, exactly, doll," he whispers and my breathing stops when a glove clad finger plays with the outer lining of my underwear.
This son of a bitch.
Ⓐ Ⓐ Ⓐ Ⓐ
•Patience is a virtue, don't forget it:)•