Stroking his thumb absentmindedly over her arm, he listened to her talk about color, closing his eyes and smiling, imagining it. He loved hearing her stories, which for obvious reasons he knew she couldn't share with him previously, even if she had figured out his own secret identity.
"I don't know anything about 80's fashion," he commented, "but I take it it's not a good thing." He had so much he had to catch up on, and fashion had never really been his thing. So long as it was functional and it fit, he hadn't cared.
He decided to share one of his own stories with her, since she'd been so open with him about what were obviously cherished memories of her friends. "Before - before the serum - I was color blind. My best friend wouldn't let me dress myself, because I kept making horrible fashion choices, he said. He finally told me to just wear khaki pants and blue shirts - which was one of the few colors I could see tell apart accurately - because it made my eyes stand out." It was still something he tended to do, even now that he could finally see all the colors he'd heard people talking about.
It hurt, remembering those early days with Bucky; their lives hadn't been easy, but they'd been carefree compared to when America joined the War. But it was also nice, being able to talk about him with someone who could understand the hurt, and appreciate the bittersweetness of remembering.
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"I don't know anything about 80's fashion," he commented, "but I take it it's not a good thing." He had so much he had to catch up on, and fashion had never really been his thing. So long as it was functional and it fit, he hadn't cared.
He decided to share one of his own stories with her, since she'd been so open with him about what were obviously cherished memories of her friends. "Before - before the serum - I was color blind. My best friend wouldn't let me dress myself, because I kept making horrible fashion choices, he said. He finally told me to just wear khaki pants and blue shirts - which was one of the few colors I could see tell apart accurately - because it made my eyes stand out." It was still something he tended to do, even now that he could finally see all the colors he'd heard people talking about.
It hurt, remembering those early days with Bucky; their lives hadn't been easy, but they'd been carefree compared to when America joined the War. But it was also nice, being able to talk about him with someone who could understand the hurt, and appreciate the bittersweetness of remembering.