46. Shimmer for the micro prompt! :^)
Apologies for this taking a million years 🩵
It's late. Bucky knows it's late, and he has an early train back to New York, but he wants to linger in this moment for as long as he can.
Steve holds his hand as they leave the bed and breakfast, but he doesn't walk Bucky right back to his aunt's house. He detours, and it takes Bucky a second to realize they're walking toward the beach. He doesn't protest, though. He's going to miss the beach. He's going to miss sitting on a log writing and sometimes just watching Steve sketch.
The moon is not quite full, but it's bright and close. There is just enough of a breeze to make the light shimmer where it touches the surface of the water, and Bucky so desperately wants to stop time.
He sits on the log and Steve's sits next to him, their bodies pressed tight against each other.
"What happens tomorrow, soldier boy?" Bucky asks. There's a tremor in his voice he can seem to shake.
Steve takes his hand and entwines their fingers. "Tomorrow, you go home. And you tell your parents that you don't want to be a lawyer. That you're not applying for grad school. You want to be a writer. And you're a damned good one." He pulls their hands to his mouth and kisses Bucky's knuckles.
"And you?" Bucky watches him. He can see Steve's face clearly in the light of the moon and he wants to memorize it all. He wishes he could draw. He'd draw and draw and draw the profile of Steve's face until he ran out of paper or lead or ink just so he could commit it to memory.
"I will spend one more day, then I'll get on a train and go the opposite direction so I can return to base," Steve says.
Bucky looks away. "And go back to Afghanistan."
"For only a few more months." Steve squeezes his hand. "And then I'm getting out. And I'll be coming right to New York to find you."
Buck still doesn't look at him, but he leans against him, lays his head on his shoulder. "I'm going to write to you every day until then."
"I'll write back whenever I can," Steve promises.
If anybody had asked Bucky two weeks ago when he got on the train to visit his ma's sister, if that was enough time to fall in love, he'd have laughed. He didn't believe in love. He'd spent so long watching his parents who might have started in love, but devolved to fighting before whatever they were now, more roommates than anything else, staying together for the now sixteen year old twins. He'd decided early he didn't want anything to do with that. But then he met Steve. And he is pretty sure Steve is the other half of his soul.
"I don't want to go," he admits.
Steve kisses his forehead. "I don't either. But we both have things to do. You're going to finish school. I'm going to finish out my contract with the army."
Bucky squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn't want to remind Steve that there's a difference between a senior year of college and deployment. Steve knows. But there's a fear living inside Bucky that this is it. He's going to leave in the morning, and he'll never see Steve again.
Steve wraps his arms around Bucky and just holds him for a few minutes, like he knows all of Bucky's fears. And maybe he does.
"I'm coming back to you," he whispers, and Bucky wants to believe him. He's going to try.
"I should get you back," Steve says eventually.
Bucky clings tighter. "Just a few more minutes, then we can go. Just a few more minutes."
Thank you!
