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romania is beautiful. you spent a year in constanta, gazing out to the black sea and discovering how to live life after fleeing america, tired of the old life you left behind. you migrated inland, settling in bucharest like millions of others in the city.
you spent many nights learning the city, the language, and the people in it. it was how you met bucky three months ago.
“te-ai pierdut?”
bluish steel eyes blink back at you, no response.
you stare back at him, thinking. you try again, switching tongues because your gut tells you that he’s not from around here. “are you lost?”
a small grunt precedes his first word to you. “market.”
you nod, motioning for him to follow you out of the side street.
he follows in step quietly and almost robotically for three blocks until you reach the farmers market. it’s midday and bustling, some trying for a bargain and others window shopping the open tents.
you let him pass you, watching as he makes his way to a fresh fruit stand. he pauses and stares at the produce and the person running the booth.
you step forward. “do you need help? i can translate if-”
your words are cut short as the man speaks fluently to the vendor, inquiring about the various fruits. as he finishes picking and paying, you stand in slight shock a few steps behind him. he turns around, shocked to see you waited around for him. he doesn’t smile at you, but the look in his eyes tells you that he wants to. but he doesn’t.
“i’m sorry.” you say at last. “i wouldn’t have bothered you if i had known you didn’t need help.”
the man shakes his head, his long brown hair swaying as he does so. you glance to the metal laying against his chest, not quite reading the name engraved into it.
“i’m bucky.” he offers a gloved hand. you look at it before shaking it, smiling as you introduce yourself.
you spent the rest of the day looking at the vendors together, getting lunch and talking in the park until the cold came with nightfall.
three months later, you’re back at the same farmers market, grocery shopping with the same man. you practically live together, surviving off of the pay you get from your part time job and the money bucky earns on random side quests.
it’s not like you don’t know him – you just don’t know what he’s done, how he got to romania, why he stayed. it’ll come with time, is what you always told yourself, especially when you wanted to ask bucky to be yours officially. the term ‘boyfriend’ scares him, and you’re not sure if either of you are ready for that level of commitment.
“meet back at the dairy shop?” you let go of his hand, ready to part into the sea of shops.
his smile is soft as he nods, kissing your hand as he releases it. you smile as you walk in the other direction, weaving through the crowd to shop.
you pass a nearby bar, scanning the area through a propped-open door. glancing up, the news outlet displayed on the television catches your attention and you stop in place, reading the headlines. images flash across the screen, and a magnified picture of bucky pops up. the color drains from your face as you finish reading the headlines. your feet move faster than your mind, footsteps picking up as you race to find bucky in the field of people.
you weave again, almost slamming your bag into a woman as you near the next corner of the market.
“bucky!” you call. his back is turned to you but he’s barely 20 feet from you. the sea of people doesn’t part for you and you’re forced to wait for the people to slowly depart.
he turns around just as you reach him, his gloved hands holding a newspaper with his face on the front of it.
“what’s happening?” tears well in your eyes as you reach for his hands. “you couldn’t have done those things. you were with me.”
he doesn’t respond but he faintly nods. his jaw clicks and he grabs your hands, dragging you away from the market and the sea of people in it. “i need to leave.”
“leave?” you stumble after him, barely able to keep up as he pulls you along. “leave where? what about me? bucky, i’m scared.”
he pulls you into an alley, bringing your hands to his chest and steadying you. “i know, malyshka. i’m-” his eyes droop in disappointment. “i’m sorry. i never should’ve let you get this close. i- i shouldn’t have risked getting you involved.”
“involved?” your brows furrow. “involved in what?” you drop your bag on the asphalt.
“me.” his eyes search yours as you try to understand what he means. “i’m dangerous, malyshka.”
“not to me.” you reach for that familiar metal hanging around his neck, forehead resting against his. “i’ve never felt safer than with you.”
as you exhale shakily, your breath fans his face and he glances to your lips before pulling you in a deep kiss, hands cupping your head gently.
“you need to leave.”
“what?!” the shock on your face almost breaks him. you step back in shock. bucky picks up your bag, pulling it to your arm.
he goes through his pockets, giving you what he doesn’t need and closing your bag securely.
“what? bucky, go where? why can’t i go with you? what’s-”
both his hands hold your face, now ungloved. the sight of the metal plates in public has you quiet. he never takes his gloves off in public, never anywhere other than the safety of your apartment.
“y/n, i need you to focus.” he carefully pulls off his dog tags, pulling them over your head until the metal tabs rest on your chest now. “keep these safe for me, okay?”
you’re crying now. you can barely see him through wet lashes.
you shake your head. “i don’t want you to go.” you sob. “i love you.”
the confession has bucky pausing, the pads of his thumbs wipe away your fallen tears. his lips meet your forehead in a calming kiss.
“i know, malyshka. i… i love you too.”
more tears spill out.
“but i can’t risk losing you.” he pulls you into his chest, hugging you so tight because you both know you won’t see each other for a long while. “get out of the city. go back to constanta if you have to. just-” you feel the uncertainty in his exhale. “get as far away until it’s safe.”
you peer up at him, sniffling. “okay.”
“i’m coming back, y/n.”
“okay.”
he kisses you again. “i won’t leave you behind.”