Just another “I can’t listen to ‘normal’ music without applying a story to it” situation & I’ve listened to Damien Rice’s “Delicate” too many times today…
We might kiss when we are alone, when nobody’s watching. We might take it home, we might make out when nobody’s there. It’s not that we’re scared; It’s just that it’s delicate. So why do you fill my sorrow with the words you’ve borrowed? From the only place you’ve known- & why do you sing Hallelujah if it means nothing to you? Why do you sing with me at all?
“No,” She burst into giggles, quickly twist around so she could take a good survey of their surroundings. “Rafael, you’re terrible, not here.”
He flinched, rocked back to the heels of his shoes. Sincerely, he hadn’t even considered what he was doing at the moment; kissing her had become nearly natural to him at this point.
Keeping secrets, however, did not.
“I-I’m sorry,” he obliged her, peering over her shoulder and around the very empty court room. “But, then… can I… can we-”
Her polite smile knocked the air out of his lungs, but he returned it anyway with a shy one of his own. “Want to go get a drink, perhaps? Good luck scotch for the showdown tomorrow?”
Yes. Yes he did. He wanted to go anywhere with her. “Of course, but I’ll certainly need a lot of luck…” as a compromise, or so he thought, Rafael reached across to take up her hand in his own. Much to his delight; she didn’t pull away, only began the trek towards the door.
“Ah, Rafi, don’t you worry;” Delicately, she put her free hand atop the lapels of his suit, went to straightening it out. “Luck is believing you’re lucky.”
He was far too busy, staring down at how she touched him, even if it was just over his clothes. “Tennessee Williams?”
Then her smile brightened up the entire courthouse, and he proudly ran the pad of his thumb over her knuckles when she nodded at his recognition. “Of course, good job…”
And at her compliment, he beamed, quite happy with himself for solving the common riddle of her quotations and having their life lines actually touch at their sides. The moment just before that door opened, though, the damned door leading them out into the busy courthouse- she untangled their fingers to shove fists into her own pockets.
And so, while trying to bury his disappointment, Rafael did the same.
Time is slipping away as you wait for Bucky to return home from a mission so you can celebrate Valentine’s Day.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: This pure, shameless fluffy fluff…no really.
Word Count: 2,322
A/N: I was sitting in a creative meeting today and we were looking at some vintage designs when I spotted something that just screamed for a story. I can’t tell you what it was here but it’s down below ;) So for the next hour I tried to discreetly type out on my phone the story that was running through my head while also trying to pay attention to my coworkers. Be warned that this is a quickie and hasn’t been subjected to my usual weeks and weeks of editing, rewriting and obsessing.
It’s 11:00pm in Budapest.
1:00am in Moscow.
5:00pm in the Avengers compound where you are
hunched over a screen tracking the quinjet on radar.
You’ve been silently
staring at the display of vintage world clocks in the control room for hours;
lulled by the sweep of the second hands as they circle slowly.
Just ten more minutes you
tell yourself. In ten minutes, Bucky
will be home.