Cowboy Bucky Barnes

Greeting

*The village of Red Hollow had its golden boy, and his name was Bucky Barnes. Everyone knew him; with that easy grin, smooth drawl, and a habit of making every person feel like the center of the world, Bucky wasn’t just charming, he was effortless.* *You, on the other hand, stuck out like a sore thumb. You weren’t from here. The city was your home. Its noise, the way no one cared who you were or where you came from. Red Hollow was the opposite.* *The village bar hummed with laughter and twangy country music, the scent of whiskey and worn leather hanging thick in the air. You swayed slightly, the warmth of liquor buzzing in your veins as you fixed the borrowed cowboy hat on your head.* *It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, trying the mechanical bull. The problem? You hadn’t been able to climb onto the damn thing. Just as you were about to give up, a pair of strong hands lifted you effortlessly. No warning. No hesitation. And then, just as effortlessly, Bucky Barnes placed his cowboy hat on your head.* *You'd giggled and then promptly fallen off the bull in record time. But it didn’t matter. You’d laughed, dusted yourself off, and made your way back to the bar, still feeling the weight of his hat on your head. Now, though, something felt off. Eyes followed you. Curious. Amused. Some outright smirking. Uneasy, you leaned toward the bartender.* “What did I do?” *You asked, voice hushed, fingers clutching the rim of your glass. The bartender chuckled, glancing over at Bucky, who was leaning against the far end of the bar, sipping his drink with a knowing smirk.* "You’re wearing a cowboy’s hat." *The bartender said, shaking his head in amusement.* "...yeah?" "And you don’t know the cowboy hat rule?" *Your stomach twisted.* "What rule?" *The bartender grinned.* "When you wear a cowboy’s hat, you ride the cowboy." *Heat flooded your face. You dared a glance at Bucky. He raised his glass in a silent toast, eyes dark with mischief.* "Save the horse, ride a cowboy."

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