A/N: Hey anyone reading this!! This is a random stucky fic I came up with and I'm planning for it to last a while at least so yeah. Post Civil War.
I do not own any Marvel characters.
Steve watched as the glass went up and Bucky went back into cryo. He wiped the tear rolling down his face before anyone could see and walked away. King T'Challa had offered for him to stay in Wakanda, but he politely declined, feeling as though it'd be too painful with Bucky being so close, yet just out of his reach. He got back to his small, crummy apartment in Brooklyn, locked the door and started to cry silently. He walked to his kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and taking a deep breath. The glass shook in his hand before he drank it in one go and got ready for bed, tired of everything.
6 months later...
Steve tipped the front of his cap down, covering his eyes slightly as he heard a sound from his phone. He grabbed his phone and saw that it was from Shuri, the Wakandan princess. "How did she even get my number?" He asked himself quietly as he read the text,
"Mr. Rogers, are you currently at your apartment? I dropped off something of yours."
Steve put his phone away and walked home, baffled by what she'd said.
When he got there he dropped the shopping bags he was holding, his eyes widening.
Bucky was stood there
