“I’m so tired, Buck.”
There was a picture on the wall this time, not one of the drawings Steve had looked at for years, aching to see his other half once more. An actual, real life picture. Maybe it hurt more to see Bucky’s radiant smile capture by the camera, his gaze light and fond as he looked at Steve the night of their wedding celebration in Wakanda. When Steve had finally gained the courage to finally ask the question he had promised Bucky he’d make years ago, when they were just naive teenagers in Brooklyn.
Steve twisted the ring on his finger and swallowed the ache in his throat, his mind lingering on the ashes floating through the air, the hand reaching out, just a little too late…
“I’m so tired, Buck.”
How many times did he have to lose Bucky? How long would he be forced to fight wars he didn’t choose?
“I miss you.”
Continued on AO3