Bucky, before his accident, was a ballet dancer. His body was so strong and fierce yet ever so gentle. You could even see the muscles on his back through a shirt. He would work out constantly and always drink those nasty green shakes because he needed to take care of his instrument.
Bucky, before the accident, was also my boyfriend. But then he just began to isolate himself. He had to switch his major to photography because I mean yeah he didn't lose his leg but he was so behind after his semester break for rehab and they gave his part away in his company and he had lost so much weight and we thought we were going to lose him to himself and I guess photography was something he liked...
He worked so hard for so long and it was all robbed from him because of a stupid mistake I made.
He woke up and looked at me. He rubbed his eyes and said something but I didn't have my hearing aids in. It was too early in the day to hear. "I'm drawing you," I signed to him. "Lay back down."
So he sighed and signed "K"
Bucky was my muse and model for all of my assignments. He is handsome enough and we live together so it's convenient. I'd love to have Bucky be mine again but he needs to fix himself first.
And yes we sleep in the same bed but that's because this apartment is just one open room and we could only afford one mattress and sometimes, when Bucky wants, he kisses me all over and tells me that he loves me still. And yes that's normally after some drinks or after he forced himself to watch his old ballet recitals or after one of his old dancers runs into him and he gets really depressed and doesn't leave the house for anything that isn't class. But still...
I slipped my hearing aids in and put my glasses on. I kissed the top of Bucky's head and put my finished drawing down so I could make some coffee and breakfast. Bucky is actually much better at cooking but he's also much lazier than I.
"Good morning," he kissed the back of my head then sat down at the kitchen table. "This turned out better then expected," he said with my book in his hand.
I turned to thank him but instead of one of the many pictures of him it was the doodle Mr Stark had drawn with his number. "So you're gonna call him right?"
But I froze, I wasn't planning on telling him about that. "I ... Umm..."
"If you don't call him I'm going to burn this book," he said as he closed the sketch book and then started to brush his hair, "Could you pour me a cup of coffee, Stevie?"
What just happened? I made him his coffee and placed that and his breakfast in front of him. "Thanks," he kissed my cheek and then traded the brush for his fork.
"Bucky," I began to brush his hair for him so he could eat, "I'm not going to call him. It's probably a fake number."
"Well after you get back from supply shopping," he took a sip of coffee, "we can call the fake number together."