splintering wood cracks & breaks on its way into the trash. it’s like dominos falling, the creaking, popping. bucky presses his left hand down on it like a compactor, quashing the leftovers of their home maintenance projects into the canister in one easy motion.
he eases over to steve on the porch. vast, open space sprawls out around them. mountain peaks zig & zag like they’re racing up to the sky on the horizon ; the cragged, rocky points disappear into flossy clouds. it’s clear, quiet, not another soul for miles.
it makes his skin itch. restlessness clambers into his bones even sitting for just this long. fingers flex for something to do. he hauls in a breath, makes like he’s steadying himself, but the truth is that he just isn’t ready for this level of PEACE just yet.
❛ we could put a fence up in two days flat & you know it. ❜ his lips peel away, a rivalry climbing into the dimple marked at his cheek. ❛ could even make a game of it. ❜ bucky plants his palm against the railing, trying to sink into this space, trying to drop roots somewhere he can commit to.
❛ guess i could get used to this if i kept myself busy. ❜ he says it with the air of a man who’s trying to convince himself, hemming over it with his open hand drawing off the railing to wave this way & then that. ❛ fix the chicken coop with some wiring, patch up the roof, that sorta thing. go for a hike or something… ❜
❛ —- ready to check the pig out of it you are. can start building the fire pit before it gets too dark. ❜
there’s something about this space that sort of fills an empty hole, something about living among trees and fresh air that settles him in a way he thought only the smell of his mother perfume and the sounds of laughter echoing from a busy city street could. he thinks that was a sort of PRETEND ( or expected ) peace, because it was all he’d ever known. some days he misses it, misses the yelling from mr. klutz down the block, or mrs. barnes telling them to come down for dinner. but you can’t go back, NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU WANT TOO.
❝ i’m not having a fence building competition with you, pal. we’d wind up doing more harm then good. ❞ the competitiveness would outdo all the work they tried to put in, they both know that. at least he does, buck seems to have FORGOTTEN.
a laugh startles its way out of his chest, head shaking as he steps down the porch, feet touching the walkway to turn and walk backwards towards the pig pin, ❝ if you want chickens, YOU’RE PAYING FOR THE CHICKENS. ❞
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