“I’m the girl who makes a mean hot chocolate.” Ruby chuckled back knowing that wasn’t what he meant. “Ruby, or Red. I answer to both.” A hand sweeping over her outfit, her signature colour boldly displayed.
“Ruby, huh? Pretty name.” Bucky replied, arching a brow. “Hot chocolate, you say? I can almost guarantee you can’t beat my best friend’s hot chocolate.” It was a vague memory, enjoying cocoa when the heat was off and they had to sit curled under a blanket and sipping the warm drink to survive the cold Brooklyn winter.
themusechronicles 