She held him through it, shivering as Bucky stiffened in her arms, caught his breath on a short gasp, then shuddered into her, her leg locking him in place, refusing to let him go. They were both still trying to catch their breath, foreheads resting against the other, Natalia stroking her lover's dark hair with tender fingertips, tingling in every place they were pressed together.
The question made her smile, and before she could think about it too much, she answered quietly, "'Ya lyublyu tebya, Natalia.'" Her fingers smoothed over his cheekbone, and she nuzzled his nose with hers. "You'll need to work a little on your accent, though. You've got too much Inner City in you to pass for a native, moya zvezda."
"Ya lyublyu tebya, Natalia," he says, grinning at her a little. "My accent's that bad, huh? Probably means I need to take lessons or something. Can't imagine where I'd do that."
It's probably his last night with her and he doesn't want to think about that. He wants to pretend that they'll be like this for the rest of their lives and that the war's a temporary inconvenience. He kisses her forehead softly and reluctantly pulls away from her to roll onto his back.
"C'mere, Natalia. We better rest up if we're going to get pictures done before we fly to Germany. Don't want to have dark circles."
It was a silent thrill, hearing her name in his rough, Brooklyn voice. One she knew she'd cherish for the rest of time, no question. She smirked back to his grin, and stole a noisy kiss from her disheveled lover before he kissed her forehead and shifted onto his back, flopping across her bed with a soft grunt.
She wasted little time in snuggling close, wiggling the covers down beneath them both to pull them up over their bare skins. "Hold me close," she entreated, working her way into the crook of his arm and draping her smaller limb over his chest, burying her face in his neck to hide her misty eyes.
"I want to sleep in your arms all night long." A small, involuntary tremor marred her voice. "...and no more nightmares. Not with you here."
"You get nightmares?" It shocks him a little, mostly because he's never known anyone to get them outside of little kids and some of the people who'd come back from the war. Not this war, though - not enough people were coming back yet - but the one before.
"What can I do? Just hold you?" It suddenly worries him that she gets them and he wants to know both why and how to ease them. They won't see each other after tomorrow morning but there's a part of him that hopes she might wait for him and he can...start again. He rubs her back lightly.
"You don't have to worry about anything, Natalia. Moya lisichka...is that right? Is moya my?"
"Nightmares" wasn't perhaps exactly the correct term; memories came a hell of a lot closer. She seldom slept, and rarely deeply, or she exhausted herself to the point where her sleep would be so deep that the hellish images from her childhood couldn't creep into her subconscious and torment her all over again. She hadn't meant to mention them now; it had been a reflex, brought about by the unearned tenderness of a certain American soldier.
"...sometimes," she whispered back, soft in the dimness. But she had to smile to his earnestness over linguistics, and gave him a gentle tweak. "It's close enough. Keep practicing, you'll sound like a Cossack in no time." Natalia pulled the sheet and blanket up over them both, cocooning them in its gentle softness and warmth.
"They're just bad dreams, James." She arched into his stroking hand, already so soothed by his mere presence. And sincerity. "They used to be really bad, when I was just a child, but every now and then, something creeps out of that dark place and keeps me awake at night."
"I'm here now," Bucky murmurs, kissing her temple as he does. "And I won't let anything hurt you. I'll keep you safe."
Maybe it's a little idealistic of him since they're both going to war and not likely to see one another again but while they're in her bed, he wants to pretend that he can be here to soothe her hurts and hold her close when her dreams scare her awake.
"I take care of what's mine, Natalia, and you're mine. Go to sleep so you look picture perfect tomorrow and let me deal with the monsters under the bed."
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The question made her smile, and before she could think about it too much, she answered quietly, "'Ya lyublyu tebya, Natalia.'" Her fingers smoothed over his cheekbone, and she nuzzled his nose with hers. "You'll need to work a little on your accent, though. You've got too much Inner City in you to pass for a native, moya zvezda."
no subject
It's probably his last night with her and he doesn't want to think about that. He wants to pretend that they'll be like this for the rest of their lives and that the war's a temporary inconvenience. He kisses her forehead softly and reluctantly pulls away from her to roll onto his back.
"C'mere, Natalia. We better rest up if we're going to get pictures done before we fly to Germany. Don't want to have dark circles."
no subject
She wasted little time in snuggling close, wiggling the covers down beneath them both to pull them up over their bare skins. "Hold me close," she entreated, working her way into the crook of his arm and draping her smaller limb over his chest, burying her face in his neck to hide her misty eyes.
"I want to sleep in your arms all night long." A small, involuntary tremor marred her voice. "...and no more nightmares. Not with you here."
no subject
"What can I do? Just hold you?" It suddenly worries him that she gets them and he wants to know both why and how to ease them. They won't see each other after tomorrow morning but there's a part of him that hopes she might wait for him and he can...start again. He rubs her back lightly.
"You don't have to worry about anything, Natalia. Moya lisichka...is that right? Is moya my?"
no subject
"...sometimes," she whispered back, soft in the dimness. But she had to smile to his earnestness over linguistics, and gave him a gentle tweak. "It's close enough. Keep practicing, you'll sound like a Cossack in no time." Natalia pulled the sheet and blanket up over them both, cocooning them in its gentle softness and warmth.
"They're just bad dreams, James." She arched into his stroking hand, already so soothed by his mere presence. And sincerity. "They used to be really bad, when I was just a child, but every now and then, something creeps out of that dark place and keeps me awake at night."
no subject
Maybe it's a little idealistic of him since they're both going to war and not likely to see one another again but while they're in her bed, he wants to pretend that he can be here to soothe her hurts and hold her close when her dreams scare her awake.
"I take care of what's mine, Natalia, and you're mine. Go to sleep so you look picture perfect tomorrow and let me deal with the monsters under the bed."