verb.
To fall back under pressure. To shrink back physically or emotionally.
noun.
The kickback of a gun upon firing.
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It takes a stubborn mind to cling to their humanity when the world seeks to strip it away.
It takes a desperate soul to reach f...
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It was Steve's words that continued to turn over in Kat's mind when she at last slumped down under the downy duvet of one of the empty beds in the house – having been ushered away by Sam with the order that she was to try and catch a few hours of sleep before trading watches with him. It still didn't feel safe enough for them to all retire to bed when there was an active manhunt happening only a few miles from their door. There was so much to think about, to worry about and agonise over, despite the fact that she was so utterly exhausted.
Never mind the fact that when she closed her eyes, her thoughts would unhelpfully turn to the sensation of lips on hers, of strong hands on her waist and achingly blue eyes gazing into her own. Still, those thoughts were more pleasant than the images of echoing concrete corridors, of cryostasis chambers and what lay within. Those muddled images made for a restless sleep, punctuated by confusing dreams. Glimpses of Amsterdam, Siberia – a warehouse, Bucky. The Winter Soldier. Soft, slow kisses being brushed over her skin and a metal arm closing around her throat.
It wasn't those visions that drove her from sleep though, but rather the sensation of the bed dipping under the weight of another presence. The warmth of a body pressing to her back.
"Buck?" She mumbled blearily into the dark room, feeling the tell-tale weight of his left arm pressing down through the duvet, carefully positioned with that barrier between them so the cold metal wouldn't be pressed to her skin.
"S'alright Doll..." The sleepy rasp came from where he was burying his face in her hair, his hold on her tightening reassuringly; "S'not time to get up yet, go back to sleep."
She knew she had left him asleep in another room, hours ago. He'd been so tired; she didn't want to risk waking him when it had been her turn to rest. She'd checked in on him though, making sure he was genuinely sleeping and not avoiding it as he was prone to do. The fact that he was actually sleeping in a bed, and not on the floor was a testimony to how exhausted he truly was.
"Nightmare?" She guessed softly, shifting slightly as he threaded his right arm beneath her pillow to draw her a little closer. It took a second, but after a moment of thought she felt the slight nod of his head against the back of her neck. "Y'wanna talk about it?"
"No... Just... I needed you." He whispered tiredly, nuzzling past her hair to lay a light kiss on the shell of her ear; "Being near you... You make it all go quiet... All the thoughts, everything..."
Kat felt her throat tighten in the face of his quiet, vulnerable words; her chest warming with the renewed appreciation of the fact that he was simply here. Even beyond this new closeness – the fact that he felt comfortable and safe enough to crawl into bed beside her – beyond that, even being able to hear his voice, feel his warmth... It was more than she could have wished for, twenty-four hours ago. She'd have been happy to even know he was alive this morning, let alone have him pressed so close to her body, his face nestling sleepily against the back of her neck, his breath ghosting over her skin.
