I stare at the face in the mirror.

You have got to be joking.

Bucky Barnes stares back at me, shock reflected in his eyes. I raise my left hand. So does the Bucky in the mirror. I'm still trying to get used to being in a completely different body when I hear a chime from Bucky's phone.

Natasha- Hey. Sam and I are at the cafe.

I throw on Bucky's jacket and walk out the door, trying not to think about the fact that I was leaving my body behind.

I carefully slide next to Sam, being careful not to run into him. Natasha passes me a cup of coffee, watching me carefully.

I take a sip, then pause, and check the inside."Natasha, I drink black coffee, not this sugary stuff." I feel Sam tense up next to me, but when I look over at him, his face is unreadable.

Natasha carefully scans my face. "Bucky?"

I laugh nervously. "Yeah. Who do you think it is?"

They both exchange looks.

"Bucky, three years ago, you woke up in Steve's body, and now he doesn't wake up in yours?"

I blanch. "Wait, he did?"

Natasha sighs in relief."Oh, thank god. Don't scare us like that, Steve."

I glare at both of them. "You knew we were soulmates? And you didn't bother telling me?"

Sam winced. "In our defense, he told us not to."

*Five Minutes Later*

We stood on the sidewalk outside, Sam trying to stop his nosebleed. He manages to pull off an exasperated expression with tissues up his nose.

"He told us not to!"

I scoff. "And you listened to him?"

Natasha placed a hand on my shoulder. "He thought that you would think he was mocking you, so he told us not to tell you anything."

Unfortunately, the argument made sense, so I grudgingly apologized to Sam, whose nose was still bleeding, and shared an awkward conversation with the two of them until about five o'clock, when I headed back to the apartment.

Sadly, I couldn't smack Bucky, because I would technically be smacking myself, so I sent Sam a quick text before I went to bed.

(Commercial Break)

I sit in an empty booth at the cafe, trying to ignore the dirty looks the owner was giving me. Natasha sits across from me, giving me subtle looks every once in a while.

"So," I say. "Gas prices."

She gives me a strange look as Sam slides into the booth next to her, and slaps me.

"What the hell, Wilson!"

A very small, very angry Steve slides into the booth next to me.

"I told him to do that," he says, punching me in the arm, hard.

"Look," I say, trying to explain myself. "I was ju-"

"Shut up, Bucky," Steve sighed. "I'm going to the apartment."

He gets up and leaves the cafe, leaving me with Sam, Natasha, and an angry cafe owner who will still not quit giving me dirty looks.

"Well?" Natasha gave me a shooting motion with her hands. "Go after him."

I slowly get up and leave, heading back to the apartment.

The second I throw open the door, I notice something is wrong.

The kitchen is empty, and so is the study and living room.

Thank god Steve prefers to hide in his room and be antisocial.

I sit down next to him on his bed, staring at my lap. He stops drawing, but only for a second.

"So," he says, drawing the vague outline of a person. "Are we going to talk about it?"

I shrug. "What is there to talk about?"

He keeps drawing, though I notice the pencil marks are a little deeper now.

"You knew for three years, and you didn't tell me. You told them not to tell me, even when you were given several opportunities."

The picture looks familiar, but I can't place where I've seen it. I risk a glance over at Steve, who is trying to concentrate on his art.

"I wanted to, Steve. But you would have thought I was making fun of you."

Suddenly I realize where I've seen the picture before.

In the mirror.

Steve's drawing me.

Steve looks up at me. He looks like he has several different emotions mixed up inside him, and can't choose which to go with.

I decide for him.

I grab the back of his neck and gently pull his face towards mine. Our lips meet, and it's annoyingly perfect, like the way they describe it in the Hallmark movies, how it felt like we were made for each other, and we were each other's missing piece, and all that crap. His lips are soft against mine, and he's not that great, but I guess I'm not either, since neither of us have kissed before.

It was worth it, waiting for him all those years.

I hope he feels the same way.