bakerstreet | I have died every day waiting for you.

I have loved you for a thousand years...

Some say that if a pair of lovers die together in tragedy, they will get another chance when they are reborn. Even if the two of you keep losing each other, you'll get to meet again.

This meme is that meeting. For the first time? For the hundredth time? That much isn't clear. What is clear is that on this, your seeming first meeting -

Everything rushes back to you. Memories, emotion, and all the comes with it...including the memory of how you two died. Overwhelming, isn't it? Some people find it hard to accept, for good reason. What will you do? You can't just bring it up, they'll think you're crazy! Maybe you don't want to bring it up, as you refuse to believe it yourself. And even if you do believe it, that doesn't mean you have to embrace it. You're your own person, after all. You refuse to love someone merely because of who you were in the past.

Or maybe you can't help but let these feelings rise to the surface because they're too strong. No matter what, you can't repress it. In fact, the more you two meet and spend time together, the more you find yourself falling back into the old roles...and making the old mistakes. That isn't good, though; there's one more thing. One of you, when you first met, had a vision about how the two of you would die this time.

You can't let that happen. Not again.

Comment with your character and your preferences.
Feel free to do a modern AU of your character. Assumed CR and AUs are a must here.
Don't feel obligated to stick with first meetings. Play that the characters have known each other for a while, are trying to have a relationship while trying to be their own unique selves, not having a relationship because THE PAST DOESN'T DEFINE ME, or even trying to avoid death in an adventurous fashion!
Reply to others.

...I'll love you for a thousand more.

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And I didn't have it. It was here, in my tent. It's not something I carry around in my pocket. Look at it, it won't exactly fit. Maybe I need a smaller one?

[He chuckled, motioning to the sketchbook before looking back down at the paper he'd been drawing.]

You can come in. Make yourself comfortable, soldier? If you wish.

[Bucky smiles a little to himself. He wonders if Steve is nervous about having him here. It sort of seems that way. Steve doesn't hide the drawing, though, so he must want him to see it.]

Thanks.

[He looks around and then sits on Steve's cot.]

You draw a lot of those, sir?

[He gestures to the sketch on the table.]

I do. I was an art student before I was in the war. Art kept me sane, really. It was a form of expression, something I felt I was really talented at. Even though I don't have time for it now, it's something I still actively pursue when I have the time. I'm very passionate about it.

[No, Steve had no desire to hide anything from Bucky. While he was nervous, he couldn't help what he felt. There was no clear explanation for it, he just wanted to be with Bucky. He felt like he could trust the man a lot.]

Do you draw?

[Bucky smiled and rubbed at his hair.]

Not quite what I meant.

[He was asking if Steve drew a lot of those sketches of him, specifically. It's flattering.]

No, I don't have that kind of talent. You're really good.

Oh!

[And suddenly, Steve blushed, his cheeks reddening a little as he ducked his head. Glancing away from Bucky, he looked down at the drawings on his desk. The corners of his lips twitch up as he smiled. He wasn't sure how much he should admit, not wanting Bucky to think badly of him.]

Thanks. I... Uh... I haven't been able to stop drawing, um, you...

[His voice trailed off and he looked up at Bucky.]

Ever feel like you've known someone much longer than you really have?

[The way Steve admitted it was cute. Bucky was also hoping Steve would say something like that. It seems like Steve meant that as a compliment that went beyond his pretty face. As for knowing someone...]

No, not until I met you.

[The feeling he has regarding Steve is much different than just deja-vu. There was something Bucky couldn't quite put his finger on.]

How about drawing from the real model? I'm here. Might as well make the most of it.

I don't know. Never really had one of those deja-vu moments, but it feels different here, with you. I feel... I can't really put it into words. Sure, I'd love to draw you, but...

[Steve looks up at Bucky, about to say something else when it hits him. He can't explain how, or why, but it was different. Suddenly, he was having a vision that wasn't his own. Strong, like he was being pulled into the past. Or future. His head shook as he stared, the world around them fading away.

It was him and Bucky, but it wasn't. They were fighting, surrounded by soldiers, like something he might have seen in a book. The outfit he was was different, a uniform that he didn't recognize. His hair was longer, his face scruffier too. "You won't take him. I won't let you." And suddenly, Steve was swinging a sword around, taking them out one by one. It didn't matter how many kept coming, he was swinging. It was an odd feeling to have. Blinking, Steve started to slowly come back to the present, reaching up to press a hand to his temple.

What... What was that? Did you feel that?

[Whatever it was that hit Steve, it hit Bucky too. Hard. He wasn't sure what was happening; the images of the war just sort of swept him away like a tide. Although he couldn't really see the enemy Steve was fighting, they barely looked human.

When the vision was over, Bucky was lying on the floor next to the cot. It made him so dizzy, he passed out for a moment.]

I have died every day waiting for you.

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