Chapter Text
Bucky was finally starting to have a routine he liked. He worked under the table at a warehouse, where no one really payed attention to him. He tried to balance being quiet and reserved with a reasonable willingness to talk to others. He knew being completely silent would only encourage challenge, in one way or another. The last thing he needed was a fight or for someone to get curious and want to befriend the quiet guy.
He had a small apartment in a building not too far from work. Well, he called it his apartment but it’s not like there was a lease or anything. He just kind of was there in a mostly abandoned building. But it was somewhere he could sleep, somewhere he could collect the pieces of himself that were coming back slowly. It had strategic advantages and it wasn’t in an area anyone wanted to look around, there were plenty of buildings like it in the area, it didn’t stand out. It worked well enough though he was sure he’d have to leave soon. But he had plans for that.
But for now, for now Bucky was trying to make some kind of temporary life for himself. He was trying to figure out people again. Trying to figure them out as something other than targets or inconveniences. He chatted with the vendors at the local market, it was an easy interaction for most people but for him it took getting used to. They were usually friendly enough with him, he was a customer after all and as he became a regular they became more friendly with him. They asked about his day or what was going on in his life and he figured out how to have small talk again. Sometimes he even found himself enjoying talking to people, probably for the first time in over 70 years.
Then things got difficult though. How? He’d joke, if he had anyone to joke to, that it got difficult the way it always does, because of a woman. The first time he saw her his breath caught in his throat and he couldn’t move. He was like a deer in the headlights, wide eyed, panicked. God, he didn’t know why but he couldn’t move and he could swear his fingers started to go numb.
She was beautiful but not in an intimidating way. She smiled sweetly and spoke softly to the vendor he had been about to approach. Romanian was clearly not her first language but she tried hard, a bit too hard honestly, to say everything right. He wasn’t sure when he started smiling but he realized he was and the smile only grew as she sweetly apologized for saying something wrong.
Then she looked to her right, where he was, watching her. She gave him a shy smile and then looked down at her purse to put her change away. He gulped nervously, hoping she didn’t realize he had been staring at her. He looked down at the fruit and started fiddling around to make it look like he was just impatiently waiting for her to be out of the way. When he looked up she walking away, slowly getting lost in the crowd.
Part of him wanted to follow her but he kept himself planted where he was. He bought his necessities, went home, had dinner, and wrote in the new notebook he had started. He even made a brief note about her, off to the side. Something to remind himself of, that he could still get worked up like an idiot over a pretty face. Like a person, like the person he thinks he used to be.
He started to keep a lookout for her at the market. He learned that she went every other day in the early morning and in the afternoon. She would walk around the whole market. She clearly wanted to check out everything and talk to people. She seemed to really want to experience what Bucharest had to offer. She asked a lot of questions about the city and seemed genuinely fascinated by everything.
He did his best to keep his distance, only getting close enough to hear her for a few minutes at a time. It was torture to keep his distance from her. He loved the sound of her voice. She was so sweet and when she stumbled over her Romanian, which became less and less as the weeks progressed, he found it adorable.
He loved how the old ladies in the market would talk with her. Her sweet demeanor and growing confidence in Romanian made her quite likeable to them and so they found themselves asking her all sorts of personal questions. He listened in, finding out whatever he could. He started allowing himself get into earshot much more when she would visit with the vendors she had made friends with, the ones she chatted with. It was as close as he could allow himself to her. And every night he’d make some small notes about her, so he would remember.
Bucky thought he blended in and most times he did but when you’re a tall handsome guy, you get noticed. She started noticing him not long after he started paying attention to her. Maybe it was because of the lingering looks and how he’d always be just looking away when she looked in his direction. He was usually stealthy when he wasn’t in the market but in the market it was a little harder and he didn’t want to seem like he was hiding. He wanted to seem normal. A couple of the vendors had started to notice. They wished he’d just say something to her so they could stop watching him gawk at her from a distance but after a month they were starting to lose hope.
“Just talk to the girl.” Says the kindly older woman Bucky buys fruit from every few days.
“What?” His eyes widen in surprise.
“Talk to her. She’s a nice girl. She buys from me sometimes, we talk. You two would be a cute pair.” She smiles at him and gives him his change.
Bucky looks down at the ground, embarrassed that he had clearly been so obvious. He looks back up to smile and nod before walking away. There was no way that was going to happen. Hydra assassins don’t get to talk to sweet, pretty girls. They don’t get to-
“Sir? Sir, you dropped this.” Came a soft voice that made Bucky’s heart flutter in his chest.
What am I? Fifteen? He slowly turned around and looked at the beautiful girl holding out his small notebook he writes his lists of errands. “Thank you.” He mutters, giving her a quick grateful smile as he grabbed the notebook and stuffed it in his pocket.
He looked back up to her face and felt a pang in his chest. She was smiling at him shyly and blushing slightly. He wanted to memorize every detail of her face. Her eyes were the most beautiful color, especially in the morning sunlight. Her lips looked so soft and perfect. Bucky couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like against his.
“No problem.” She said and looked down briefly before looking back at his face. Bucky wasn’t the only one feeling like their heart was out of control. She wasn’t normally one for guys who had perpetual five o’clock shadow and long hair but this guy worked it. It helped that he had the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen in her life. Then there were those perfect lips...she had had more than a few thoughts about what those might feel like.
He gave her a short nod and turned to leave. No, don’t go! She thought, desperately trying to think of something, anything , to say to him. “Wait up.” She said and caught up to him.
What the hell is she doing? He wondered, a bit bewildered.
“Uh, so, I...sorry I’m not that good at, uh, people.” She swallowed hard and was kicking herself for not having a plan. “I was just wondering, uhm, because I see you around a lot, what’s your name?” Cue more mental kicking because that made no logical sense but honestly talking to a man this intimidatingly handsome was hard .
He didn’t respond right away. Instead he paused by a little coffee cart and ordered his usual small coffee. He looked down at her and saw that she was starting to lose confidence and clearly felt awkward. “James.” He said quietly as he grabbed his cup of coffee and gave her a small smile. “Yours?”
“Hannah.” She said with a bright smile.
“Nice to meet you, Hannah. I have to go. I’ll see you later.” He left and this time she let him go.
“Bye, James.” She couldn’t stop smiling. She finally had a name to go with that handsome face.
When Bucky got home he put away his groceries and quickly pulled out one of his notebooks. He wrote about some things he had remembered throughout the day, small details about his home in Brooklyn. Then he paused, considering whether or not he should write down what he had been excited to put in the notebook. He chewed his bottom lip as he thought for a few minutes. He took in a breathe and then let it out shakily before he continued to write.
Her name is Hannah.
He writes, small and hard to see if you aren’t looking for it to try to protect her but he has to write it down. He has to make sure he’ll remember. Her name is Hannah.