Breakfast in... bed? That comment in combination with Bucky squeezing his shoulder turned this situation around really fast. Maybe.. just maybe.. things weren't quite as bleak as he was painting them to be. Maybe he was babying Bucky too much, treating him as if he were made of glass instead of vibranium. He breathed out a sigh as Bucky disappeared into the bathroom. Breakfast. Right.
Steve hurried down to the kitchen. It was difficult not to get his hopes up. As much as he wanted to take those two little things and build them up to be a good sign, there was also a possibility that he was reading into it too much. Maybe Bucky was just being friendly. Or felt sorry for him for looking like a weirdo who wanted to cuddle in his sleep.
But.. breakfast in bed had been a reoccurring thing for the two of them before Bucky's time jump. Something Steve genuinely liked doing for his boyfriend. Another little thing Bucky seemed to enjoy. Did that mean he remembered?
The blonde was burning with questions upon his return. None of which he'd be able to ask, because Steve had been stuck silent for the second time that morning. Was that.. his old sketchbook? In Bucky's hands? Where the hell had that thing come from? Oh, Steve started sweating instantly.
The food was calmly set upon the hotel desk, despite Steve's internal panicking. Maybe the pages were mysteriously blank. Maybe Bucky hadn't looked too deeply into the sketchpad yet. Maybe it was just a really convincing fake. Either way, Steve was already reaching in order to take it from him. "Hey.. ah, is that..? Buck, hand that over.. you don't want to look in there. It's just, um, some silly old drawings."