nardandan

[nardandan]

Indian Summer in the Middle of Winter

[A Bucky x Reader fic; Soulmates, reincarnation, and fluff ahead]

SUMMARY :

Your senses were filled with swing music echoing from the gramophone, the laughter of couples spinning across the dance floor, and Bucky Barnes' touch, impossibly warm, on the small of your back. The scent of cinnamon and espresso lingered in the cool december air, mingling with cedarwood and leather. It was hard to believe you were dancing with Brooklyn’s golden boy. He might’ve been your best friend’s older brother, but the two of you could hardly stand each other. But the night was full of surprises, and by the end of it, you find yourself slowly, but surely, falling in love with Bucky Barnes. Little did you know that that was the last night you'd spend with Bucky before he was shipped off to war, before both of you inevitably faded from each other’s memories, and before the world went to hell. After that night, you never saw Bucky Barnes again. Decades later, a man with tired eyes steps into a coffee shop to escape the cold. And there, by the counter, he sees her— That girl, like coffee, some distant memory ago.

PAIRING : Bucky x Reader (Fem)

TAGS : Reincarnation Trope, Unrequited Love, Pre-war!Bucky, 1940s!Bucky

NOTES: It's my first time writing a fic!! (thanks to my bucky brainrot phase). Also on A03. and yes I made a sideblog just for this because I'm a lil embarassed hahauhah.

[Chapter 1/?]

December, 1942 – Another Lifetime Ago

Your senses were filled with swing music echoing from the gramophone, the laughter of couples spinning across the dance floor, and Bucky Barnes’ touch, impossibly warm, on the small of your back.

It was hard to believe you were dancing with Brooklyn’s golden boy. He might’ve been your best friend’s older brother, but the two of you could hardly stand each other. No wonder your classmates couldn’t help but stare at the odd pair you two made— who would’ve thought that the James Buchanan Barnes would ask you to be his date to the school dance?

The gymnasium-turned-dance hall was dimly lit and decorated with sparkly streamers and strings of soft lights. The theme this year was “Winter Wonderland,” so everything was in whites and blues. It was fitting for the season—less so for the war-torn times. Still, even kids forced to grow up too fast deserved one night of fun before everything went to hell. Like all the seniors in the hall, Bucky had already been called to enlist for the army. 

Weeks before the dance, you had planned to stand by the snack table the entire night, sans the company of your best friend Becca who had to transfer to a boarding school months ago. You were caught by surprise when Bucky Barnes, her brother, asked you to be his date. You were skeptical, of course, because in your eyes this boy was always up to no good.

Becca was an angel; how she ended up with a brother like him was a mystery. He was irritatingly charming, smart, and slick, but you saw through his facade. He was a guy who’d never heard the word “no” in his life. He got away with most things, from causing trouble to breaking hearts, thanks to his endless supply of charm. All he needed to do was look at you with those pretty blue eyes and flash that damned smile— on most days, you were immune to it. But that night, you found your resolve slipping.

“Hey, you ok?” His voice cut through your daze. “You regrettin’ saying yes already?”

You blinked up at him, startled. He gave you a lopsided grin, enough to cover up his nerves that were slipping through. 

“I just figured,” you started slowly, “when you asked me to be your date, it’d involve you making fun of my hair. Or my shoes. Not this.”

“This? As in… dancing at a dance?” Bucky laughed, low and genuine. “C’mon, doll. I can be sincere when I want to. Give me some credit.”

“Have you earned any?”

“Guess not. But hey, I’m trying.”

You were taken aback at the sudden sincerity in his tone. Something shifted in the air between the two of you, as if he was evolving right before your eyes. This boy, no, man, was now more than just your best friend’s brother. 

“You look real beautiful tonight.”

A beat of silence. Heat crept up your cheeks at the unexpected compliment, and for once, you didn’t know what to say. The lack of your usual snappy comebacks seemed to throw Bucky off—his confidence faltered, and he looked away, the tips of his ears flushing pink. You just weren’t used to him being so… sweet and earnest. Not wanting to keep the awkward air, you try to poke some fun at him again.

“Gee, was that a real compliment? What’s the catch?”

“Don’t get used to it. I’ll be making fun of your shoes next.”

“You always know how to sweep a girl off her feet.”

“Only if she’s wearing better shoes.”

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your lips curled despite yourself. There he was—that Bucky Barnes. The one who always had a smart remark, always got under your skin. You playful stepped on his foot as he laughed at your reaction.

He winced with an exaggerated groan. “Guess I deserved that.”

“You did,” you said, trying not to smile too much.

The music slowed, and you found yourselves inching closer that you could almost hear his heartbeat. He was undeniably handsome—annoyingly so. His hair was slicked back with pomade, and he was donning a sharp suit of navy blue. His white dress shirt was freshly pressed and hugged his torso so nicely that you catch yourself staring every now and then. When did he get so broad? You figured it’s because he was already training for the soldier’s life he’s been dreaming of.

Before the next song started up, he squeezed your hand and led you to a quieter corner of the dance floor. “I wanted to thank you,” He looked straight into your eyes. For a moment, a side of him you’ve never seen before peeked through. “For being there for Becca. When… y’know, when everything went to hell.”

You suddenly felt tears pricking your eyes at the mention of her name, the sudden ache of missing her weighing on your chest. Both of you were inseparable since kindergarten, and having her suddenly plucked away from your life was jarring. Some time after their parents died, Becca was eventually sent off to a boarding school upstate. You wrote letters—fewer and fewer as the months passed—but it just wasn’t the same.

“Last time she wrote to me,” you murmured. “She was sayin’ that she hated the food, hated the kids. Missed me. And you.”

“I miss her too,” Bucky said softly. He opened his mouth to say something else, but hesitated. You sensed his apprehension. You tilted your head to the side and stared at him with a searching look on your face.

He squeezed your hand, gathering the courage to say— “I think I missed you too, weirdly enough. You might not have meant it, but you were there for me when I needed it too. Without Becca here anymore, I guess I just don’t see you ‘round as often.”

You blinked up at him. You felt another wave of warmth rising to your cheeks, spreading through all the places you and him connected.

“What, no comeback?” he teased.

You couldn’t help but giggle, trying to push down that giddy, bubbling feeling rising from your belly. “...I guess I missed you too, Barnes.”

Somehow, you ended up dancing with Bucky all night long. Hours passed like minutes. You talked about school, about Becca, about how different things had become in just a year. You both shared stories from childhood—the stuff only you two would understand. The conversation slipped easily into something indescribably soft, and you found his gaze easier and easier to hold.

The conversation flowed so smoothly you barely noticed the time. It felt like it was just you and Bucky, suspended in that moment, surrounded by a blur of lights and glitter. The growing shuffle of footsteps turning to leave the hall snapped you out of your trance.  The program wrapped up, and it was time to leave. Yet, Bucky’s hand stayed firm on yours.

“Come on,” he said, tugging your hand gently. “There’s someplace I wanna show you.”

You indulge him, just this once, because you know this is the last night you’ll ever get to spend with Bucky Barnes. The tangle of sensations you felt tonight almost made you forget the reality of tomorrow— He was preened and raring to go to war, and you were destined to be stuck in this town. 

He led you up the fire escape towards the school rooftop. Winter had started, and snow dusted the edges of the roof. No one was around except you, Bucky, and the twinkling stars painting the Brooklyn night sky.

“I know this place is off-limits but… This is where I go when I want to clear my head, get away from it all,” Bucky said, shrugging off his coat and draping it over your shoulders. “Don’t tell anyone, alright? I got a reputation to keep ‘round here.”

“What, afraid you’ll be exposed as the troublemaker and trespasser you really are?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t exactly fit my golden boy image.”

You both laughed, settling into a comfortable silence as you stargazed.

“I’m gonna be shipped out in a week,” he said eventually, his voice nearly as quiet as a whisper. “Army wants us out by Christmas.”

All you could do was nod. “I figured.”

You and Bucky looked at each other for a long time.

This felt like the beginning and end of something both of you refused to acknowledge, yet some childish pride kept both of you holding on to this unnamed feeling.

“I’m gonna keep you right here,” he said, tapping his chest. “Even when I’m miles away.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut it, Barnes. You and I both know you’ll be charming the next pretty blonde who’ll give you the time of day.”

He laughed that boyish laugh that made your heart light. The two of you danced around the lingering goodbye—something inevitable and bittersweet.

“Maybe,” he said. “But not tonight.”

You leaned back against the rooftop, Bucky’s coat draped around your shoulders, the stars above, and the scent of him—leather and cedarwood— putting you in a warm embrace.

You turned to him and said, “Maybe in another life, we’d have more time. Less wars. Less trouble.” It was half a statement, half a wish.

“You think we’d meet again? In another life?”

“Yeah. I’ll find you just to give you a good smack—for giving me the best night of my life, then leaving me here all alone the morning after.”

You both laughed at the ridiculous thought, but a small part of you knows it wouldn’t be so bad to spend a lifetime with Bucky by your side.

The night had been full of surprises, so he turned to give you one more for the road. He slowly held out his hands to cup your face. His hands were unsteady, shivering, and you were unsure if it was the cool December air or his anxiety. Being the impatient girl you are, you grabbed his shaky hands and leaned in for a kiss.

The warm scent of cinnamon and espresso filled his senses. That was the last thing he’d remember you by—

That girl, like coffee, some distant memory ago.

After that night, you never saw Bucky Barnes again.

The next few years for Y/N were uneventful and grey. You were married off to some sod of a man who could never quite compare to that soldier boy you once held dear in your heart, even if his face had long since faded from your memory. You died an unremarkable death, stricken by tuberculosis like a thousand others. Your story was lost to time—immortalized only in the letters exchanged with your best friend, and in the ones you never found the courage to send to James Barnes.

And as for Bucky Barnes— 

He did, in fact, dance with other girls. Drafts of letters he meant to send were tucked away and forgotten. And the rest about Bucky Barnes, who eventually turned into the Winter Soldier, and back to Bucky Barnes again, is written down in history.

Neither of you would remember that cold night on the rooftop— But time did. Time is where things are lost, but never really forgotten.

----------------------------

December, 2025— A New Lifetime Ahead

Decades later, a man with tired eyes walks the cold streets of New York, hoping to take refuge from the unexpected snow storm. He ducks into a quaint little coffee shop on the corner of some familiar street, and immediately, the nostalgic scent of cinnamon and espresso fills the air.

And there, by the counter, he sees her—

That girl, like coffee, some distant memory ago.