You wringed your hands together, worried about what was to come, James and Steve were coming home for a short furlough for the holidays and you had been invited by Steve's parents to come along to pick them up, you had grown up with the boys and had been there when they left. However after they left, James had written you and you had kept in touch, sending a few pictures to the boys "for a pretty girl to have in our pocket" and not long after that, James confessed that he liked you.

You had no idea how to respond. You couldn't say you didn't have those feelings too, but you didn't want to grow attached; when you weren't entirely sure he would even come back. So you pretended that you never got it, and James, waiting for your reply didn't send another.

Now you saw him walking towards you, even though he was far away, he could see that it was him, Steve not far behind him. As he got closer, his eyes lighted on you and he gave you a little smirk, and you could feel your cheeks flush red as he approached.

He, being a gentleman, hugged his mother and father first, and you couldn't say you weren't a bit jealous. Then he turned to you, and wrapped his arms around your waist tightly, pulling you into him so you had no other choice but to slither your hands around the back of his neck.

His time proved to be worth it, as you felt his lean muscles even under his thick layers of clothes. You mumbled into his ear, "I'm glad you're home."

"So am I," he responded.

The ride back to Steve's house was a bit awkward, as Steve had grown so much since you had last seen him, and he looked like a powerful man now, not that little boy that had followed James to war.

"So, Y/N, how's Brooklyn been?" Steve asked, looking across James, who was sitting in the middle.

You shifted a little to face him, "Actually, Steve, I moved to Chicago, my parents let me come see you guys, since your parent's were nice enough to invite me in."

You blushed a little as James snapped his head towards you in shock.

"You moved? Half way across the country?"
"Yes, James, I -"

He rolled his eyes, successfully cutting you off, "You know I don't like to be called that, sweet-pea."

He smirked at you, the second time since he'd gotten here that he made you want to wrap your fingers in his hair and kiss those lips.

Steve cleared his throat and you both realized that you had been staring, you stumbled over your words, "S-sorry, J-Bucky."

Steve turned toward the window and hid his smile as he pretended to not listen anymore, but it was pretty hard not to."So, how do you like it there?" Bucky asked, his voice soft with a tinge of hurt.

"It's alright, nothing like Brooklyn though, I do miss it here."

You smiled at him and Bucky shifted to put his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding and relaxed into him, allowing him to pull you right up next to his hip, nearly on top of him.

After you all got to Steve's house, Bucky pulled on your elbow and brought you into the small family room, closing the door behind you.

"I'm so glad you came," he said, moving towards you, much like when you were at the station waiting for him, "I've been dying to see you."

His eyes flitted around your face, soaking in every detail, like he hadn't seen you in years, when it had only been about seven months. He wrapped his hands around your hips, moving his thumbs in little circles just above your hipbone, sending little waves of electric pleasure pulsing through you, ending up in your cheeks. You looked down between you two, but the view was blocked by Bucky's body pressing against yours. You let out a shaky breath as the heat started to build up in your chest. Bucky's face was not even an inch from yours, you could feel his breath against your skin. Your eyes about to flutter close.

"I was just a little hurt that I never got a letter back," He barely whispered, as his thumbs stopped circling and became harsh, holding you steadfast.

You looked into his eyes, seeing the pain behind them, but when you didn't say anything, Bucky's fingers seemed to dig into you a bit harder, his voice getting harsh, "I guess you didn't understand, sweet-pea, I want to know why."

"I was scared," your voice barely made it past your lips before Bucky had let go of you and he was halfway across the room.

You could tell he was trying to keep his voice calm, "Scared of what, Y/N?"

You felt the tears starting to prick your eyes, "Scared that if I confessed I would lose you."

He couldn't hold back his anger anymore, and started yelling, albeit not loudly, but quite harshly, "So you decided to leave me hurt for months, as if that was any better? You led me to believe the girl I loved, didn't love me, while I was in the middle of a war! Do you have any idea how many times I thought about just putting my gun down and stepping into enemy fire?!"

You looked at your feet, tears flowing freely now, you didn't have anything to say.

Bucky scoffed, "Of course not."

He turned to walk out of the room, but before opening the door said, "I wanted to marry you, Y/N, I thought I would come back and be able to have someone waiting for me. But what I come back to is a lying bitch, pretending to want me."

He walked out of the room, and for the rest of the night wouldn't even look at you.