Breakfast
This is my entry for the @barnesrogersvstheworld 1K writing challenge (go follow if you arenβt!!!)
Also!!! i haven't written in a while ive been going through so pretty shitty life stuff so go easy on this one i know it isnβt my best lol xx
Summery; Breakfast solved everything
Β Warnings angsty, deathy, cry-y etcΒ
Breakfast solved everything.
When your grandma was around, she would always tell you that breakfast solved everything, and it always stuck.
When you met Bucky Barnes in a dive bar and partook in your first one-night stand, you got up, panicked and made breakfast, it took your mind off the man sleeping in your room. Instead of making his excuses and leaving he stayed and you ate breakfast together which was albeit a little awkward but by the end there were sparks flying across the old oak table, filled with half eaten breakfast foods.
When you started dating evening dinner dates couldnβt be the norm because he always worked stupid hours, so breakfast dates replaced them. He would trudge through your door at 7am, you would eat breakfast together, heβd either laugh about the antics of the previous night, or heβd be stoic and stony-faced sparing you the gruesome details, but you always had an idea. Youβd clean up and heβd sleep, never for long but still sleep and suddenly the previous night was nothing but a hazy memory for him, because it didnβt matter really, he had his girl, her love and copious amounts of breakfast food, he would always be okay.
Breakfast solved everything.
After your first real fight, you angrily made pancakes because you didnβt know what else to do, you had cried over the gloopy batter and muttered harsh words under your breath, he had taken a brisk walk, stomping over the pavement with more force every step, his body language screaming at passers-by to get out of his way but somehow he ended up back at your place and some how you had made breakfast for two and somehow you both ended up eating pancakes and making up.
Breakfast solved everything.
When you moved in together something you had spoken about over your old and trusted oak table it was scary and uneasy and exciting, you had moved the table with you of course because you couldnβt bare to part with it and you sat at it surrounded by brown boxes containing your separate lives jumbled up and stacked on top of each other. Looking into his eyes and at his lopsided smile as he shoved cereal in his mouth, you knew that you were going to be okay.
Breakfast solved everything.
It was a stormy and dark Wednesday morning when you took the test, the faint two lines were something you never thought youβd see, you felt sick, scared, upset but also excited as you pictured your lives as a family of 3, as you pictured Bucky as a father, something he never thought he could be and love he never knew could exist, a chance to put a little bit of good back into the world. It was a cloudy Sunday morning when you woke up to an unbearable pain and a puddle of blood. Hours later you sat at the table, Bucky knelt next to you talking but you couldnβt really hear, everything was out of focus and you felt numb, he had been so excited, and your body couldnβt even do what it was supposed to do, he pushed a cup of coffee towards you and begged you to drink it and you did, it scalded your throat. You started your road to recovery together right there at that table.
Breakfast solved everything.
The birthday banner shone in the July morning sunlight as you waded through the multicoloured balloons to take a seat at the set table, filled to the brim with food, the centrepiece being a large, pink frosted cake, you hadnβt been able to stop your grin at the effort your boyfriend had gone to, to make this day special.
βI have a surprise for youβ his sleepy voice came from behind you, he always looked the best in a morning with slightly messy hair, plaid pyjama bottoms and always forgetting a shirt, you never minded really, before you could ask what the sound of a quick scuttling across the hard wood floor was, soft barks filled the room. You had cried, he had laughed and Cap the puppy ate the carpet, you sat and ate breakfast together, feeding the small puppy fruit and basking him in love.
Breakfast solved everything.
When Steve walked into your apartment, heavy footsteps wet from the torrential rain looking sombre and ruined, when he sat you down and told you he had died valiantly, and he saved many lives, when the sickening realisation that Bucky, your Bucky, your life, your everything wasnβt coming home. When you screamed and sobbed as the reality hit you that you could never hug him again, you could never laugh with him again, you couldnβt text him a funny joke and get a reply, no more lazy Sunday mornings, no more future together, he was truly gone and when you stood up, a knee-jerk reaction, almost robotic to make some coffee to busy your numb mind you realised that,
Breakfast wouldnβt solve everything.
