verb.
To fall back under pressure. To shrink back physically or emotionally.
noun.
The kickback of a gun upon firing.
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It takes a stubborn mind to cling to their humanity when the world seeks to strip it away.
It takes a desperate soul to reach f...
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Fingertips grazed lightly over her jaw; cool, smooth metal followed by the heat of lips shadowing their path. The gentle scratch of stubble on her skin and the pleasant tug of hands in her hair, a low groan in her ear that sent shivers racing up her spine and gasping, fervent breaths – the clatter of plates and the sound of a chair being pulled back?
Kat groaned softly as the sounds permeated the blissful haze of sleep, her hands reaching to tug the duvet over her head as she grumbled out her protest – before her weary mind came to the slow conclusion that seeing as she lived alone she really shouldn't be hearing those sounds in her empty apartment.
Cautiously, she pushed herself into a seated position, shoving her tangled hair out of her eyes as she peered out the open door of her bedroom, breathing out a soft sigh of relief as she caught sight of the familiar form pouring out two mugs of coffee.
"Buck?" She hummed tiredly, scrubbing at the damp patch on her cheek that betrayed just how deeply she had been asleep – the foggy snatches of her dream enough to drag a heated flush to her cheeks, just as her call drew the attention of her morning intruder.
"Sorry, did I wake you?"
A few light steps and he was there, leaning against her doorframe – relaxed, smiling fondly at her undoubtably bedraggled appearance.
"How early is it?" She frowned, self-consciously pulling her pillow into her arms and hugging it tightly, trying not to look too closely at his gloveless hands. Or his stubbled jaw. Or his lips.
Stupid dream.
"It's not, but its your day off." Bucky reasoned gently; pushing one hand through his hair as a strand flopped over his features; "And you didn't get to rest much the other night so... I thought I'd let you sleep."
"S'alright, I don't need that much anyway..." She shrugged, glancing at where the morning sunlight was spilling in through the crack in her curtains as her mind wandered back to long hours of sleepily reading aloud from a vapid romance novel, idly stroking his hair as he slept on her shoulder. He hadn't had another nightmare that night.
"I know, and yet there you were, snoring your way through breakfast."
"I don't snore!" She gasped, looking back to his playful grin and swiftly throwing the pillow in her hands at his head. He was a different man now, in the daylight. That heartbroken vulnerability was masked once more, but they both knew she had seen it. "Get out of my room, Barnes."
"Coffee's ready when you are." He chuckled, effortlessly dodging her projectile and closing her door over behind him – so he didn't see when she slumped back into her bed with an embarrassed groan.
It wasn't that she minded him being there, she'd gladly shared every corner of her home with him – but she could have timed her damn thirsty dreams a bit better. But it was just a dream, that's all. It'd be out of her head by her first sip of coffee.
