In his down-time, Steve liked to take some time and go to the boardwalk. Sometimes, he’d walk around aimlessly and just enjoy the positive crowds. Others, like today, he liked to get himself a corner and do free drawings. It helped him improve on his human figures and kept his hands from itching. Of course, people recognized him, that was unavoidable. Being Captain America and Steve Rogers these days… tended to blend into being the same person, where as back during the war, he was able to separate the two.
Perhaps, he might have minded once, but there was something about a couple of kids with their Avengers shirts on screaming in joy and asking for pictures that made his heart fill with warmth a bit. After another round of pictures with a no older than six-year-old set of twin boys, Steve turned back to his seat and sketch-pad, pausing at the shadow covering his spot. He dropped into his seat and placed the pad in his lap.
“Would you like a drawing?” he asked as he straightened his pencils out, only after that, looking up to see who he was talking to.
james seemed to find comfort in baseball caps, pulled up hoods and gloves. three ways to attempt to hide himself from people while being around them at the same time. he feared he’d be on the run for the rest of his irregularly long life. which... he’d probably just have to get used to. wasn’t like hydra really gave him an option in that. wasn’t like they’d asked before replacing his arm with a metal one that caused him continuous pain and brainwashing him to become a mindless killer.
it was times like these that part of him missed bucharest. not that new york wasn’t an equally beautiful city in it’s own way, because it was, but new york was filled with ghosts of his past. people who might actually recognize him. that was why he hadn’t lingered long after pulling steve out of that river. he knew steve and that falcon guy had been looking for him. he knew nat had been helping them. the only difference was that nat had actually managed to find him. she hadn’t told steve, per his request. james wasn’t sure he was ready to face steve again. steve probably wanted his friend back. his best friend. bucky. but james wasn’t sure if he could be that person again. he wasn’t sure if he deserved that nickname.
while on a walk, he stops dead in his tracks when he spots him. легок на помине, he thinks to himself. he sighs. despite his better judgement, he heads in steve’s direction. he’d been living in the avengers compound for a few weeks now, and avoiding steve when he lived in the same huge building wasn’t always easy. he’d managed it. albeit, barely. he stops in front of steve, unsure of what to say. “no, thanks,” he answers. “hey, punk.”















