Setting: 1920s AU

[ * — "Kiss now or later?"
   ** — "Kiss me later."    ]

"James Barnes," your voice somehow managed to silence all the commotion in the Speakeasy.

Every man in the bar fell silent; the flappers all looked at you with envy. You were the girl every man wanted and every girl envied and the best part about it? You were too in love with James Buchanan Barnes to even notice their watchful eyes and devilish smirks as you brushed past the crowds of people, drool nearly dripping from a few men's mouths.

"(Y/n)," Bucky hopped off of his bar stool and stood idle, watching you come closer to him. "I was starting to think you weren't coming."

Once you stood a mere few inches from him, you reached up to straighten his bow tie. He couldn't seem to wipe the grin off his face that he always wore around you. He loved you. He loved how lucky he was to have you.

"Thank you, love. Cash or check*?" Bucky's smirk grew even wider, his eyes dropping to your rosy lips.

"Check**." You replied, your eyes leaving his black bow tie and finding his pretty, blue eyes instead.

"I'll keep that in mind," Bucky took your hand in his, his smirk now a ghost as he looked at you seriously, "but we need to talk." His voice went hoarse.

You bit the inside of your cheek nervously, goosebumps forming on your skin. Bucky never sounded serious. Not like this. Your stomach felt like a bottomless pit and you pulled your hand away from his, immediately thinking the worst.

He doesn't love you, you thought to yourself.

You knew that when you'd first met him, he was a free bird. He didn't like being tied down and told what to do; he liked doing what he wanted when he wanted to do it. You were fine with that; you wanted the same for yourself. Only now, you realized you may have been preventing him from doing the things he wanted, unintentionally. Had he been trying to let go for a while now? Was he coming to his senses after two years? Had he realized you weren't the girl for him?

"No, (y/n)," he took your hand again, his eyebrows pulling down.

He shook his head and pulled you towards the door that led to the cheap department store that the Speakeasy was hidden behind.

"What is it, Bucky?" You asked, your heart thumping.

The blue eyed man only sighed as he lead you through the hidden door and the clothes in the department store. He pushed through the glass doors of the store and the two of you started walking down the sidewalk, the noise of New York City filling your ears. The world around you was busy, but you only saw Bucky. You only saw the brunette in front of you, dressed in a suit with a black bow tie, his back to you.

"My Ma is sick," Bucky stopped in the sidewalk abruptly, turning to you.

"What?" You asked, no relief coming to you, despite knowing that what he needed to talk about did not involve breaking up.

"Nobody knows what's wrong with her, (y/n), but it's not good," his blue eyes were glazed over with tears, "Doc said she's not strong enough to fight it off."

He sounded so broken.

"I'm so sorry, Buck. Is there anything I can do?" You asked, squeezing his hand.

You had come to love Mrs. Barnes. She treated you like another one of her children and she was just dying for you and James to marry.

"Well, there's one thing you can do." Bucky frowned, unable to look you in the eyes.

"What is it? I'll do it."

"You can go home." The muscle in his jaw twitched, his eyes focused on the pavement below his feet.

"Go home?" You asked, your eyes narrowed.

You could go home? How would that help anything?

"Yes. Go home. Live. Forget about me for a while. I need to be with my mother until the end and I don't know if what she's got is contagious or not, but I won't risk you getting sick, too." His voice was hoarse, as if each word that came out of his mouth was painful to say.

"Bucky, there's no way—"

"There has to be. I'm not losing you, too." He pleaded with you, pulling his hand away from yours.

Your heart sunk. This was a break up—just not the one you'd expected. He was trying to protect you.

"I guess that's how it always is, huh? The guy breaks up with the girl to 'protect' her? But it doesn't protect her; it only makes it worse." You stated, your own eyes filling with tears.

"Don't cry, (y/n), you know I love you. You know I do." Bucky sighed, leaning in to kiss your cheek. "I just want to keep you safe."

"You want me to be safe," you bit your lip, "but I won't be happy."

"I don't care." He swallowed.

"Really?"

"I care about you being alive—healthy. I won't put you at risk." He sighed. "I might catch it and I wouldn't want to give it to you."

"You don't even know what 'it' is, Bucky. It could be a cold, for all they know." You closed your eyes, realizing you were drawing attention to the two of you.

"You could be right. But that's not a chance I'm willing to take."

You nodded, but not in agreement. You nodded because you knew whatever he said was right. He wouldn't push you away like this for no reason.

It wasn't a cold. You both knew it.

"I'm sorry, love." Bucky sniffled, taking a step back.

"I know you are." You fought hard to keep the tears at bay.

He nodded and looked down, his facial expression growing colder as he turned away.

"Hey, Bucky," you called out once he was a yard or so away, watching him turn back to you.

"Yes?"

"Can I get that kiss before you go?" You asked, your heart beating so rapidly that you were sure it would explode.

The corner of Bucky's lip turned up into the hint of a pained smile as he walked back to you.

He stopped in front of you, "I was afraid you forgot."