Setting: 1934

{ Bucky and you are 17 — according to the Marvel Cinematic Universe }

Valentine's Day used to be fun for you; that is, when you were eight years old and all of your classmates exchanged candies and homemade cards. Now, it was just another boring, cold day in February.

Before leaving for school on Valentine's Day this year, you rummaged through your junk drawer in search of your gloves. The temperature outside was bitter and you had quite a few blocks to walk to the high school.

You reached far into the back of the drawer, but instead of feeling the soft material of the gloves, you felt paper underneath your fingertips. You pulled out whatever it was and looked down at it, the words written on it bringing back distant memories.

"Will you be my Valentine?" - Love, your pal, Bucky

The hint of a smile threatened to spread across your face, but you stopped it from coming.

You remembered that day in grade six when Bucky Barnes was your best friend. You'd walked to school with Steve that morning, asking him if you looked okay every five minutes. Of course, Steve would nod every time with a smile. Then, once you'd arrived at school, Bucky wasn't even there.

"Where's Bucky?" You asked, turning to Steve.

"I dunno," Steve muttered, studying the frown that had formed on your face.

You moseyed on over to your desk and slid in, playing with the ends of your braids. As the teacher announced that the class could exchange cards, you sat still, your head hung low.

Bucky never missed school, not even if he was running a temperature and pale as a ghost.

"(Y/n)," Steve tapped on your shoulder.

"What is it, Ste—" You looked up from your desk to see Steve looking over at the doorway where Bucky now stood.

"James," the teacher stood between you and Bucky, her red lips pulled down into a look of disappointment. "You're late."

"I'm real sorry, Miss Andrews. It'll never happen again, I promise." Bucky crossed his free hand over his heart, th other holding a little white box with a red bow taped to it.

"Mhm," Miss Andrews glanced down at the box and back at the blue eyed child. "Alright, come on. Looks as if you've got a gift to give, hm?" She smiled, glancing over you and Steve before returning to her desk.

Bucky strolled over to you, a goofy grin plastered on his face. He slapped his slightly smaller friend on the back and sat the little white box on the edge of your desk.

"Well, go on, open it." Bucky smiled, watching you eagerly.

As you reached for the box, the fire bell rang.

"Everyone, get in line at the door, please. Don't worry, it's probably just a drill." Miss Andrews reassured the class. You could see the frown lines forming on her forehead and deep down, you knew she didn't think it was just a drill.

As you, along with the rest of your schoolmates, filed out of the school building, you felt something slip into your hand. You looked beside of you to see Bucky, his eyes flickering around and landing on a window of the school. You followed his gaze to see an orange blaze and thick smoke on the far side of the building.

Bucky's eyes widened as if he remembered something and he turned to you, releasing your hand. Just as he was about to say something, Steve called out your names. You turned around, searching for him in the crowd of children and teachers.

"Bucky, (y/n), come on! They're sending us home on the buses!" Your eyes finally found the skinny boy yelling as he waited for you two by the school bus.

"Bucky, did you hear that? We have to get on the bus—" You turned back to where Bucky had been to see that he was no longer there. "Bucky?" You called out, your eyes raking through the mass of students in search of your brown haired, blue eyed friend.

He was no where to be seen.

You looked down at the card Bucky had slipped into your hand.

As you stood there holding the card, five years after that day the school building caught on fire, you let out a sigh. Now, five years later, you, Bucky, and Steve were still friends. However, you and Bucky had your differences. He was always courting around some bottle-blonde with bubblegum pink lips and it bothered you. He just wasn't there for you like he used to be.

Hiking your bag over your shoulder, you left your room and descended the stairs of your family's apartment building. Outside, Steve was waiting for you as he did every morning before school since you were six years old.

"Hey, Rogers," you smiled, the two of you heading towards school as soon as you'd reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Hey, (y/n)." Steve greeted you with a soft smile. "Did you know that there's an army recruiter coming to speak to us tomorrow?" He was still the same height as you to this day, but he had big dreams.

"No, I didn't know," you replied, keeping your eyes in front of you.

For some reason, you kept replaying the events of that day in your head—the day Bucky had given you the card. Now, the card was just a reminder that you and Bucky had grown apart. At least you still had Steve; you assumed you'd always have Steve.

"You okay? You seem a little—"

"I'm fine." You interrupted Steve, not wanting to talk about it. You already felt bad enough and you knew telling Steve about it wouldn't help you feel any better.

Once you reached your classroom, you were greeted by your old, elementary school teacher, Miss Andrews—only now, she was Mrs. Raines.

"(Y/n), how lovely to see you again. Happy Valentine's Day." The woman smiled, placing a petite hand on your shoulder. "Wow, you're so grown up now. And Steve," she looked past you at the boy, her eyes studying him carefully, "you...wow. It's just so nice to see you again. I'll be substituting for Mr. Harless today."

"Nice to see you again, Miss—Mrs. Raines." You smiled, sliding past her as she stepped away from the doorway.

"Hello, ma'am," Steve said politely, following behind you.

You glanced around the room, your eyes landing on Bucky's desk. Empty.

"Where's Bucky?" You asked, looking at Steve as he sat in the desk behind yours.

"I'm not sure," he replied, watching you slide into your desk. "Is this a trip down memory lane or what? I haven't seen Miss Andrews since—"

"Grade six," you interrupted, "yeah, me neither."

Steve's lips formed an 'o' as he realized you remembered that day clearly, as well. Before he could say anything else, his eyes flickered up to the doorway.

"Miss Andrews," you heard Bucky's voice and turned around to see him smirking. "What a surprise."

"James Barnes, is that you?" The woman asked from her desk, her eyes widening. "Why you're all grown up now! And I'm afraid," she held up her hand, showing off her pretty ring, "it's Mrs. Raines, now." She chuckled.

"Well, congratulations, ma'am." Bucky grinned, stepping closer to her desk. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Happy Valentine's to you too, James." She smiled, her eyes dropping to something in his hand. "Ah, I see you have a gift for someone special, huh?"

Bucky looked down, nodding. "That I do," he smiled.

Your gaze lowered to his hand and in it, to your surprise, was a little white box with a red bow stuck on it.

"Is that—" Steve began, but stopped talking as Bucky strolled confidently over to the two of you.

"Hey, buddy," Bucky smiled, nodding at Steve before turning to you. "(Y/n)." He flashed an even wider smile at you as he set the little white box down on your desk. "I know we kinda grew apart over the years, but I never got the chance to give this to you."

"But...how...how do you still have this? I thought it was ruined in the school fire." You stuttered, your eyes fixated on the little white box.

"No," Bucky clenched his jaw, studying your face. "I went back for it."

"That's where you went? When I turned around after Steve called for us...and you weren't there...that's where you were? Going back for it?" You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Bucky had went back into the building for this—for your gift?

"Yep," he replied coolly, shifting on his feet. "Now, go on. Open it."

A smile crept up on you as you moved to untie the red ribbon on the box. You lifted off the lid carefully, Bucky's baby blue eyes watching your every move. You peeled back the white tissue paper and revealed a silver necklace, a single charm in the shape of a heart on it.

"Bucky," you smiled, looking up at him, but before you could thank him, he picked the necklace up out of the box.

"Will you be my Valentine?" Bucky asked, biting his lip as he awaited your answer.

"Oh, brother," Steve muttered from behind you, but neither of you payed him any mind.

"Yeah, Bucky. I'll be your Valentine." You nodded, unable to stop smiling.

Bucky's lips turned up into a smirk as he stepped behind you, clasping the necklace around you.

"I can't believe I waited five years for this." He chuckled, taking the seat beside yours.

"Hey, that's your problem. I would've said 'yes' a long time ago." You laughed, playing with the necklace's charm that hung from your neck.

Bucky just grinned, unable to tear his gaze away from you. You were his Valentine, and more importantly, you were his girl.