I have no idea how to poach eggs. [ which isn't exactly a no to making it for her... he is, of course, silently noting that piece of information, another tidbit in his ever-growing mental file marked yelena belova. ] Always looked fancy, though.
[ but at the question of what his favourite is, bucky hesitates. ponders the matter, even while he fetches the sugar (for her) and the loaf of bread (for both of them), and starts cutting out holes in the bread to fit the eggs. you'd think it would be an easy question, but he hasn't had to consider it in a while. sometimes that vast gulf between his old self and his current one seems an insurmountable wall; the memories were hard-won in coming back, slowly dredging them up out of the deep abyss where they'd been buried. sometimes he'd had to double-check himself against steve, back when he was still around, to figure out if bucky really was remembering something or if he'd accidentally pilfered details from a movie he'd seen, a book he'd read. did i like lagers? was my favourite colour green? what was the name of becca's oldest kid?
this one, though, he manages to recall: ]
I like a full English breakfast. A fry-up. Bacon, eggs, sausage, toast fried in butter, baked beans, grilled tomatoes. It's like, practically a huge farmer's breakfast. Super filling, and rare during the war because of the meat— but it was like a special feast whenever we could get a hold of it. Usually when we were on shore leave.
[ a beat, a hesitation. ]
I had some really good food in Wakanda, but not enough to replace old favourites. And considering the time I was on ice there and then, uh, snapped out of existence, I haven't been awake all that long enough to try a bunch of different things.
no subject
[ but at the question of what his favourite is, bucky hesitates. ponders the matter, even while he fetches the sugar (for her) and the loaf of bread (for both of them), and starts cutting out holes in the bread to fit the eggs. you'd think it would be an easy question, but he hasn't had to consider it in a while. sometimes that vast gulf between his old self and his current one seems an insurmountable wall; the memories were hard-won in coming back, slowly dredging them up out of the deep abyss where they'd been buried. sometimes he'd had to double-check himself against steve, back when he was still around, to figure out if bucky really was remembering something or if he'd accidentally pilfered details from a movie he'd seen, a book he'd read. did i like lagers? was my favourite colour green? what was the name of becca's oldest kid?
this one, though, he manages to recall: ]
I like a full English breakfast. A fry-up. Bacon, eggs, sausage, toast fried in butter, baked beans, grilled tomatoes. It's like, practically a huge farmer's breakfast. Super filling, and rare during the war because of the meat— but it was like a special feast whenever we could get a hold of it. Usually when we were on shore leave.
[ a beat, a hesitation. ]
I had some really good food in Wakanda, but not enough to replace old favourites. And considering the time I was on ice there and then, uh, snapped out of existence, I haven't been awake all that long enough to try a bunch of different things.
I guess maybe you can relate.