His hair is still wet from the pool and is soaking into one of his pillows. Little droplets fall from her red-blonde hair onto his skin and he swears they sizzle. He needs to do more than just lay here, but this is her show.

Bucky's hands rest on her thighs, and he traces designs up her thigh, around her hip and along her back with his flesh hand. His fingers find the gently rolling warm skin of her body intoxicating. He lifts his chin, letting her get at his neck. His metal fingers, bury themselves in her hair.

They both need this... this... reaffirmation that life has gone on.