"No– don't be sorry, I just–" Steve shook his head, holding his face in his hands for a moment. "I'm sorry," He sighed, "I'm just…anxious. I just want you to see that you're a good person: you don't deserve to suffer the consequences for this."
Bucky shrugged slightly. "I don't remember anything. So." he replied slowly, looking over at Steve and shaking his head. "Sorry."
"It's alright," Steve said with a neutral smile, "It's gonna take some time, but it'll get better."
Bucky nodded a little bit, running a hand through his hair. He kept eating, eyes fixed vaguely on some middle ground, his thoughts retreating inside of himself.
(any idea of what to do next? i have been rifling through my saved prompts and ?idk?)
(haha idk either. Maybe we could time skip to the party, and Bucky's remembered a little more but not a lot?)
(sure, how much good/bad do you think he should remember? will he tell steve?)
(I think just good things, since he's got enough bad ones. Maybe?)
(sure, sound good! whats the vibe with the party?)
(Hmm. Important people, some government shits I mean…politicians, some reporters, maybe some other people sprinkled in i guess?)
(mhm, mhhhmm, buisness-y? ok.)
(yeah business-y)
Steve weaved through the sharply-dressed crowd, politely excusing himself from their curious glances as he spotted Bucky. "Hey, how you holdin' up?" He half-whispered, straightening his own tie.
Bucky shrugged slightly, and tugged on the sleeves of his suit jacket. "Uhm. I don't know." his hair was pulled back from his face in a neat, low ponytail, his face cleanshaven. His left hand poked out from his sleeves, all too obviously not flesh and blood and bone.
"Hm," Steve nodded once, offering him a faint smile and trying not to acknowledge how fetching Bucky looked in that suit. "Everything's going well, I think."
Bucky nodded, a faint smile flashing across his face. "Hopefully." He replied with a slight shrug.
Steve let out a soft sigh, straightening his posture and trying to shake off his nerves. He checked his watch, "Only about another hour to go, then I can collapse into my bed. I'm not sure I slept last night."
Bucky shrugged. "I did. But…yes. Leaving would be nice." He replied slowly. He sighed quietly
"Hmm. What I wouldn't do to sneak away with that tray of candied figs," Steve quietly chuckled, smiling to himself and returning the polite glances of the people that passed them.
Bucky let out a soft laugh. "Mm. Well. People keep pointing at me while talking with each other, like I can't see them." He shrugged his shoulders slightly.
I can't blame 'em; he's gorgeous. "Hmm," Steve sighed, his eyes casually scanning the room, "I'm sorry it bothers you. We just gotta make it through this next hour, it'll be okay."
"I don't blame them. I am kinda the whole reason this thing is even happening. I've had like three reporters come up to me asking for pictures or questions? I probably said the wrong thing. Tony is gonna kill me." Bucky replied, looking at the crowd.
"Aw, I'm sure you did fine," Steve said reassuringly, "And Tony– I think he understands what it's like to be the topic of conversation, and the nervousness that comes with it. So don't worry, just be honest and…answer every question with another question," He chuckled.
"How am I supposed to be honest and answer everything with another question, Steve?" Bucky replied, frowning and shaking his head. "Especially when I've been told that I look like I want to murder everyone here, which was… an interesting conversation."
"It's a technique for– What?" Steve asked, his smile slipping off his expression and frowning, "Someone said that to you?"