#bs1

Bucky has choices, it’s been over 70 years since he’s had choices. He has his own thoughts and his body is own and his everything in his head is his own. Now, Bucky doesn’t have to rise with the sun instead he gets to sleep in until he can’t any longer. The birds outside of the cloth door are chirping so incessantly that Bucky considers throwing a rock at them, only for a moment. But Bucky rolls over, the other side of the bed is empty -- which is still a bit unusual to Bucky. He hasn’t always known Steve like this, a man full of restless energy. Still, as long as Steve is happy living here in Wakanda with Bucky, that’s all that matters to him. So Bucky rises slowly, right arm to lifting to stretch above his head before rising slowly from the bed in the corner of the room. While Bucky’s stomach grumbles at the idea of a nice fruit bowl for breakfast, he instead drapes one of his wraps carelessly over his head and ducks out of the small hut.

While I wasn't trying to figure out how to exist, I was trying to figure out how to live.