You Must Remember This

Chapter 46 - Deception

Wakanda, 2016

'It's been a little over seventeen years since I last saw you. Seventeen years since you last kissed me. Seventeen years since you last made love to me. But I still feel you, Bucky. Whenever I close my eyes, I see you. I perceive the heat of your body against mine. I feel you stretching me, driving into me, coming undone inside me. Even just writing about this is enough to get me wet, so imagine what happens when I'm lying alone in bed and thinking of you. Of your mouth trailing and marking my skin. Of your fingers touching me, exploring what I've kept for only you. And of your... God, I'm gonna need a few minutes to myself after I'm done with this page, because I miss you so goddamn much, Bucky.
And I pray you never read this journal. I pray I live long enough to save you and remind you of our love in person. More than anything, I pray to just wake up in your arms and hear your sweet voice say, 'good morning, wife.' Because I'm waiting for you, James Buchanan Barnes. There's been nobody else, I swear. I'd rather live alone with the memories of you than give myself to another. It's always been you. It will always be you.'

The lump in Bucky's throat made it hard to swallow. He pressed his lips together, willing himself to keep it together, but it was no use. The tear stinging his eye fell at the next blink. It slowly rolled down his cheek as his heart crumbled further.
Family, love, time... Even the things that seemed impossible to take, like control over his own body and his memories, had been so crudely stolen. Had it not been for HYDRA, he would've had a life with Evelyn. He would've dated her properly after the war, and proposed to her, and waited for her at the altar. He would've gotten a better job, and Evelyn could've pursued her career in medicine further like she'd always wanted, and they could've made a difference for people. Heck, they would've become aunt and uncle to Rebecca's kids, and maybe even Steve and Peggy's!

So many lives would have been different. So many lives wouldn't have been destroyed. But HYDRA had changed everything. Zola had ruined everything. He put the Winter Soldier in Bucky's head. He forced Evelyn to allow that animal to...
The sadness gave way to anger. It seemed those two emotions were all Bucky was capable of feeling these days. They battled inside him, forcing him to surrender to either. But giving in would mean letting HYDRA win. Giving in meant forgoing everything Evelyn sacrificed to save him. To save them.

She loved me... She really loved me. Steve was right, he —

Bucky's eyes widened, recalling then Steve mentioned he'd read the parts of the journal where Bucky left off before. He could already imagine the shades of pink and red on his best friend's face at his twin's detailed descriptions of their love-making and her yearning for him. Poor guy.

His own fault. I didn't make him read, and Evelyn certainly didn't either. She wrote her journal for me. To make me remember her. Us.

Bucky took a deep breath, letting both his sorrow and rage evanesce, and lay back in his pillows. The silence helped him focus, and for once, not even the nagging migraine at the back of Bucky's head bothered him. He closed his eyes, envisioning the love of his life. Until now, he'd always pictured Evelyn on the stage of the Poppy Lounge, singing in that dulcet, angelic voice underneath a spotlight meant only for her. But after reading and remembering how intimate he'd really gotten with her, Bucky's mind was producing another image, pulled from the heart of his memories.
Her periwinkle eyes darkened with lust as she swayed on top of him. Caramel blonde hair cascaded down as she threw her head back in ecstasy. Bucky's fingers tingled as he recalled gripping her thigh, digging into her plump flesh to keep her in place to make his lover scream his name. His hips jerked up, and Bucky wished he weren't tied up. He wished he could gratify himself as he held onto Evelyn's vision. She felt so close, so lifelike.

"Evelyn," he moaned.

Bucky felt the tickling caress of fingertips traveling up his arm. A hand cupped his face. Lips caressed the corner of his mouth. His eyelids fluttered open.
The halo of gold was the first thing Bucky saw against the light in the room. A tantalizing smile on full red lips next. Then those eyes, a darker shade than their usual vibrant flower-like hue. He would recognize them everywhere.