If She Has What I Think She Has Then Kara's Winning This One - Blog Posts

he smiled, tight lipped and still slightly grim, but it was a smile nonetheless. he watched her go, only once she was out of sight did he turn his eye to the shelves of books. it took him longer than he would have liked to admit to really pay attention to what he was looking at. he picked his way through, trying to remember the last time he actually read a book for leisure at all.

eventually, she returned to him and bucky arched a brow as she presented him with her find. the teasing was gone now, but he knew the feeling well—the hesitation before offering a piece of yourself. he took the book from her hand and blew out a breath, the velveteen rabbit. his expression softened, thumbing through the pages absently.

❝ okay . . . i'm impressed, ❞ bucky admitted, ❝ i didn't think this place would have it. ❞ he turned the book over in his hands before presenting her with his own find. milk and honey by the poet rupi kaur. what is stronger than the human heart, he'd read while thumbing through the pages. ❝ we might need a third opinion. ❞

kara stepped further inside,  the dim light filtering through cracked windows,  tracing the curve of her cheek as she smirked over her shoulder.  ❝oh,  you’re on, ❞ she said,  voice laced with something playful but edged in challenge.  her fingers trailed along the spines of forgotten books,  their titles half-erased by time,  their covers worn soft like well-loved things.  there was something about places like this — untouched,  abandoned,  yet still breathing with the weight of words left behind.  ❝winner gets to pick the next adventure, ❞ she added,  glancing at him as if daring him to up the stakes. 

she disappeared into the stacks before he could answer,  moving through the rows with an ease that came from years of seeking refuge in places like this.  a quiet sanctuary,  where no one asked who you were before or what you might become.  her fingers stopped on a book with a cracked leather spine,  its gold lettering dulled but still there.  the velveteen rabbit.  she exhaled softly,  thumb brushing over the title.  a story about being loved into something real.  a story about survival.  about what it meant to endure. 

when she found him again,  she held it up without a word,  her gaze steady.  a moment passed between them,  something unspoken stretching in the quiet.  ❝i think i win, ❞ she said finally,  but her voice had lost its teasing edge.  there was something else there,  something weightier,  as if she was offering more than just the book.  a piece of herself,  maybe.  a quiet understanding,  waiting for him to take it not knowing that behind her back she held yet another surprise. ❝ you find anything?❞