Rachel and Tim
Tim hadn't really expected to see her there. He hadn't really expected to care if he did or not. He could have sworn he chopped off that bit of him and left it a nub, to grow black and die at some point.
But a month and a half later and he still hadn't given up. Not completely. It hurt to see her with someone else. And there was a small part of him that wanted to punch Bucky in the face. Which was wrong. Because he was the grown version of his biglittle brother. Still, he knew what time of month it was. He knew that look on her face.
Without asking Tim collected different bits of chocolate on a plate, and a fizzy drink to battle the nausea that she knew she was fighting. Without a word, he settled the plate in front of her, and the glass, moving her water out of reach.
It took all the will power in the world not to wreck the smoothed back pompadour that he had his hair slicked back in, by running his fingers through it. Instead he sat down, on his hands.