❛ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ❜

❝ for you are mine . . . at last! ❞

THE first thing Anastasia heard was violins. The shrill notes rapidly descending down, suddenly stalling at the last note for a tense moment that held in her throat.

She was suddenly standing alone in an empty ballroom, noting it looked like it was from the thirties. She turned around in her spot, seeing none other than James standing beside Anastasia.

Relief flooded her body, making her shoulders visibly relax.

The violin faded away, replaced with a man's luxurious voice and a choir of voices.

Everybody loves somebody sometime

A warm smile stretched across her mouth, wide enough to bare her teeth.

Bucky grinned back with his perfect teeth, dressed sharply in his army suit. He reached out a hand, inviting her to dance.

As the beat of the music started to commence, she slipped her hand into his, allowing Bucky to spin them into a slow waltz.

Everybody falls in love somehow

The two stood close to one another, leisurely swaying from side to side as they rotated. Anastasia felt his warmth under her cheek as it was rested against his chest.

Something in your kiss just told me
My sometime, is now

The notes did another quick descend as he quickly spun her around again. Only then did Anastasia notice she was wearing. The red evening dress fitted snug to her waist, having a small opening below the neckline with short sleeves.

Ana's hair was suddenly pinned up and back, styled like how she used to do it back in Brooklyn.

Although it was a mystery on how this all happened, Anastasia didn't care enough to question it.

She pointed one of her feet to the side, glimpsing down at the dark leather pumps.

Everything seemed to be falling into place.

Was everything before just some crazy dream? Did Bucky come back from the war and they both somehow suffered head injuries to imagine such events?

With an eager bite into her bottom lip, the music only seemed to get louder.

Something in my heart keeps saying
My someplace is here

Anastasia locked eyes with Bucky's again, watching him under the brim of his crooked hat.

He mouthed along with the song, even though it was a different voice. "If I had in my power... I'd arrange for every girl to have your charms,"

Bucky turned her around, holding her from behind while they swayed on the lonely dance floor.

Anastasia laughed, although no audible noise came out. The song playing seemed to drown everything else out. She felt his lips peck below her ear, hitting that one place that tickled.

Everybody loves somebody sometime
And although my dream was overdue

Anastasia closed her eyes, being able to do nothing but savour the feeling she held at this moment. She felt completely filled with bliss, as if nothing else mattered in the world except them.

Your love made it well worth waiting
For someone like you

She gently leaned her head against his, wrapping her arms overtop his, that hugged her waist tightly. Bucky's chin tucked further at the base of her neck, having his eyes closed too.

One of his arms pulled away from her as the other gripped her hand tightly. Anastasia opened her eyes, turning with Bucky as he spun her out once more.

They held hands at arms length, seeming to stretch further and further away. She leaned back on one heel, smiling in silence.

Bucky winked in return, pulling her in sharply. Anastasia lightly bumped into his chest, sharing a quiet laugh with him.

Everybody loves somebody sometime
And although my dream was overdue

His blue eyes shifted lower, studying Anastasia's red painted lips.

Your love made it well worth waiting

Bucky gently cupped Anastasia's face, looking down at her with nothing but adoration.

For someone . . . like you

As the song came down for a gentle end, the two met in the middle, kissing one another dotingly.

Everybody loves somebody sometime

With a sharp inhale, Anastasia sat up on her mattress. The thin covers that laid over here felt damp from sweat. Her arms were pin straight, angled back to support her weight.

For one thing, she recognized the song. It played at that thrift store down the road from her building.

She loudly inhaled through her nose, craning her neck all the way back to stare at the ceiling. As her shoulders caved inward, her collarbones cupped. Landing on her back with a stiff bounce, she rolled over to grab her journal.

Anastasia flipped to the next blank page, jotting in the dream. She vowed to write anything that reemerge in her mind. She managed to fill a page and a half.

Closing the pen within the notebook, she tossed it to the ground beside the bed.

It was dark in the studio apartment; dimmer with the windows plastered over with newspaper. Just to keep from peaking eyes, but still allowing light through during the days.

As her heartbeat thundered in her ears, Anastasia navigated through the dark. Pulling open the front door, she grabbed today's paper off her mat.

Anastasia climbed on her bed, craning up to the remaining light that peaked through the uncovered parts.

She read today's date—November 19th, 2014. The main headline was something about a local shop hosting a reopening celebration the prior day.

With no further care, she threw it beside her couch; a small growing pile of past papers there too. She had yet to hang them up.

The mattress was stiff on her body as she flopped down onto it. Vacantly observing the ceiling, Ana tossed her arm over her stomach and sighed tiredly.

Her eyelids were heavy from the nightmares, eventually closing on their own once again.

ANASTASIA shovelled her way into the vacant apartment, the light sprinkling of rainwater from outside spilling over the threshold.

Her backpack hung heavy on her shoulders and her arms were full of grocery bags.

After placing the food down on a small table that sat in the middle of the kitchen, Anastasia let her bag fall onto her bed; which now had sheets, a pillow and a proper blanket.

The apartment was more habitable, to Anastasia's standards. She now owned multiple plates, bowls and cups, as well as multiples of cutlery. A small frames of local art was on each wall. She had magnets on the fridge. A small cotton tea towel was draped over the dishwasher handle.

It was fitting together. Slowly.

Moving to the bathroom, she checked a ceiling tile for her stash of money. After counting the wad, Anastasia mentally noted to loot another Hydra base soon. They always had hidden stashes of money.

A prolonged sigh slipped her lips as she moved back to the kitchen. Anastasia reached up to remove her hat, suddenly freezing.

Gripping the bill tightly, her ears pushed back in annoyance when the haunting click of a gun was directly behind her.

Her head pivoted modestly, presenting one side of her face to James Buchanan Barnes.

That son of a bitch finally caught up to her.

Both pairs of brown eyes met together, each mixing with different storms of emotion.

Before Bucky could respond, her smile vanished and Anastasia sharply twisted, seizing his wrist tightly.

His finger accidentally squeezed the trigger—firing abruptly into the opposite wall.

Anastasia gasped, pausing her movement, tightening her hold. Staring at the small bullet hole, she glared at Bucky's weathered face, "My wall—!"

Smacking the gun to the floor, Anastasia kicked out his knees. Twisting and giving a giant pull, Anastasia flipped Bucky over her shoulder.

His heavy body slammed on the ground, shaking the apartment.

Bucky let out a harsh grunt when his body collided onto the wooden floor, rolling to one side in pain. Anastasia stepped forward, pressing her boot into the middle of his chest, pushing him on to his back. She bent down, snatching the gun before pointing it at him.

"Get out." Anastasia flatly commanded, before hissing at him. Her finger slid over the trigger, "Now."

Instead of an answer, Bucky only grabbed her foot, giving it a twist. She grimaced before losing balance, falling down. When her body smacked the floor, Anastasia sprung herself on her arms, attempting to crawl away.

Her dark eyes darted to her left, spotting the discarded gun near the table.

Bucky peeked up, noticing her being too far for his reach. Lifting to his knees, he lunged for her.

His arms were heavy around her torso, weighing her down. When they crashed together, she pushed them onto his back.

Anastasia clenched her teeth, jabbing her elbow into his side. He coughed, but held on.

Pushing his right arm up, she craned her neck enough to bite his hand. Bucky yelled, pushing away from her.

In that spare moment, she rolled to her feet and jumped away.

Spinning around, Anastasia lifted her leg in time to kick Bucky in the chest when he jumped for her again. His body jolted back from impact.

Anastasia lifted her leg to roundhouse kick, but the other assassin blocked it with his metal arm.

It sent a shock of pain through her ankle and foot.

Bucky stepped forward, pulling a punch towards Ana.

Slapping his fist away, Anastasia closed the distance and smacked her elbow into his neck. Missed his face.

Bucky swung up, punching into her stomach.

Anastasia shoved him away, having enough force and momentum to knock each other to the ground.

Slowly rolling onto her knees, she gave him a dour stare. Bucky gritted his jaw, his own expression impassive.

Bucky let out a sudden breath, attesting that he wasn't used to as much movement compared to two years ago.

Anastasia's mind suddenly remembered the gun, and she went for it while Bucky was still recovering.

Swiping it with one hand, Anastasia cocked it before aiming. It gave a mechanical shift. Anastasia laid on her back, craning her head to glare at him.

Bucky groaned softly under his breath, sitting with his knees bent so his arms could rest upon them.

His eyes met hers for a moment before towards her shoulders to gauge how heavily she was breathing. "Been a while?"

His voice held a small hint of defeat. And sarcasm?

She remained quiet to his joke, only clenching her jaw in response. Bucky noticed the shift. He let a sigh out through his nose, smoothing a hand over his hair to tuck behind one ear.

Anastasia's gaze lingered at his hair. It was longer than the last time she saw him.

"You're fixing that hole in my wall." She finally spoke—voice lacking from any humour as well.

Her arms dropped after she switched the safety back on the pistol. She let out a grouse of discomfort as she climbed to her feet.

"I'll be lucky if I don't get evicted by tonight." Anastasia seemed to be talking to herself; walking away as she spoke, "I was just starting to get on Elena's good side. Also, why the hell are we fighting?"

Bucky was silent now, watching her glide to the small kitchen island. A ball of guilt stirred in his chest.

As if she could sense it, she casted him a relaxed gaze. "That last part was a joke, by the way. Me and Elena are very close."

Anastasia tossed down the weapon before leaning onto the narrow countertop with both hands. Her head slowly lowered as her butt leaned out to stretch, letting out another moan of pain.

He got up, mindful as he approached Anastasia.

"Not exactly," Anastasia stood from stretching, turning to open her dowdy fridge.

Her voice held no malice, but calmness. After a second of peering around at the limited food supply, she turned her head to gaze at him over one shoulder. "Are you hungry?"

Bucky's eyes fixated on hers, hesitating to answer.

Anastasia tilted her head gently, speaking above a whisper. "You're allowed to say yes. But if you're truly not hungry, I won't push."

Her voice was loud in the silence.

He remained mute for a moment more before nodding at Ana. "We have a fight and then you invite me to eat?"

More silence follows before her shoulders hunch with a shrug. "You didn't mean it. We're both scared of everyone."

Anastasia connected their looks, seeming to sense another silent question of his; "Some days of forgiving myself are easier. Today just happens to be easy."

Moving to her bag of clothes, Anastasia grabbed a sweater before pulling it on. Opening the front door, she gestured back before shoving her hands in her pockets.