Of course, of all the people she had ever known to be forcibly neighbored with, it had to be the one guy who, apparently, hated her.
"If anything," She grumbled, aggressively folding clothes, Wakandan music droning on from the radio in the background. She handed a folded sweater to the wind-man next to her, who tucked it into the drawer. "I should hate him. I mean, he tried to kill me twice! Twice, you know?"
The wind-man just looked at her, resting its palms on the dresser. It almost looked concerned. August sighed.
"Yeah, you're right. I need to be the bigger person." She went back to folding. "If he wants to act like a teenager, that's on him. I'm an adult. I am a grown woman with emotional intelligence."
Wind-man said nothing. It tucked the clothes into the drawer, still watching her. Actually, she had no idea whether or not it was really watching her. It was wind.
"I mean, I just want to know what I did. It wasn't my fault that Tony decided to throw me into this- admittedly, very bougie - but random country in Africa. I didn't ask to be here. In fact, if I had argued the case, I would probably be helping him track down those Byrd people right now. But no. I had to have my damned freedom, or whatever," She started laughing nervously. "And now, I'm talking to the air! Which is the same as talking to myself! You're not even real!"
She stepped away, running a hand through her hair. August looked to wind-man, who somehow, looked almost hurt.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. You're totally real," She nodded. "You're great. Really."
Wind-man set down her folded jeans and evaporated into nothing. She threw her hands up.
"C'mon, don't be like that..." Her head fell into her hands. "Fuck. Now I've got the goddamn conceptual beings all mad."
She shuffled to her balcony, eyes half-open, and rested her elbows on the bannister. The early July Wakandan sun warmed her face, soaking her skin with rays.
Something squealed at her. She looked down.
"Mr. Barnes!" She yelled, narrowing her eyes at the squiggly pink beast rolling around in her previously crystal-clear water. In its mouth, it slowly munched on one of her coveted water lilies. "Get your damn pig out of my damn pond!"
There was no response. She looked towards Bucky's hut, frowning. It was mid-morning already, and Bucky was usually up before the sun. Unfortunately, she knew that because he cleaned the pig-pens in the morning, which sent the pigs squealing out into their shared field.
"Mr. Barnes!" She hollered again from her third-story balcony.
Still, no answer. She sighed, swinging her legs over the bannister and dropping to the ground. She took the impact in her knees like Steve had taught her, and rubbed her eyes as she walked over to the pond.
"C'mon," She took a quick under the pigs' behind. "Missy. Let's get you back to daddy."
August clumsily herded the pig out of her pond, splashing its backside with water to keep it moving. They made their way down the clearing, around August's crumbling earthen wall that she had only erected a week ago.
She sent the pig off towards the pens and begrudgingly strode into Bucky's hut, her bare feet sloshing in the muddy earth.
Rolling green fields and patches of wildflowers be damned, he had to choose the muddiest point in the entire plot, didn't he?
Upon stepping into the hut, she found that it was surprisingly well kept. A cold kettle sat on the wooden stove, a single plate and fork in the sink. She noticed that there was only one of everything- one chair at the wooden table, one cup next to Bucky's bedside, one pillow on his tiny bed, which Bucky was currently slipping off of.
After quietly fixing a crumbling spot in his hut, August stepped over to where Bucky slept. He snored softly, a stray brown strand spilling out of his bun and onto his face. His only arm was crossed over his chest, his feet dangling off the end of the bed.
"Barnes," August hissed through gritted teeth. "Wake up."
Bucky grumbled and rolled over, murmuring something in his sleep. She sighed, stepping forward.
"Wake up!"
He kept snoring.
August flicked his forehead. "Wake the fuck up!"
Bucky shot upwards, slamming against the far wall, protectively cupping the lump of flesh on his shoulder. He stared at her for a second with wide eyes.
"Ms. Haze, what are you doing in my house?"
She stood up straight, crossing her arms.
"Your pig was in my pond."
He frowned.
"Nellie or Bess?" He shook his head. "What do you care so much anyways, it's just a pond, they're just pigs. Not hurting anything."
"Uh, you're the one who made it clear that you didn't want anything to do with me. I'm just staying true to the agreement. When your pigs come in my pond, that violates your end of the bargain."
"Has it ever occurred to you that you're violating it too? That damned radio that you blare through the middle of the night? The earthquakes I have to deal with every time you get a little frustrated?" He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, standing up. "The fact that you're in my hut right now? You coulda' just put the pig bag in her pen and gone on your merry way, but no. You chose to start a headache."
August turned red, spinning on her heel and storming to the door. She paused in the doorway, turning back to give him an angry glare.
"I just don't get what I did to make you hate me this much."
"Hate you?" Bucky scoffed. "Ms. Haze, this world doesn't revolve around you. Sometimes, people just want to be left alone! And no matter how funny, or powerful, or smart, or beautiful you are, you can still come off like a fly buzzing around my damn head!"
"Funny, with all the flies the pig shit out front attracts, I didn't think you'd mind us all that much."
"Enough with the pigs!" Bucky threw his hands up.
"Next time one comes into my pond, I'm turning it into bacon."
"You wouldn't dare, Ms. Haze."
"I would! Since clearly those pigs are the only way I can get any kind of conversation around here." She pushed her hair out of her face, flustered. "And my name is August. Not Ms. Haze."
Bucky stared at her. The sun beat down on her skin, a thin layer of sweat coating her flesh under the stifling heat of the mud-hut, staining her white tank-top. She crossed her arms over her chest.
"What are you staring at, Barnes?"
He swallowed thickly and looked away.
"You should go on home, Ms. Haze."
August huffed. She dropped her arms, turning away.
"Fine!"
"Yeah, fine!"
She marched back to her house, his stare still living in her head as she went.
YOU ARE READING
SURVIVE ➤ BUCKY BARNES
Fanfiction"i think of you-" "think of me?" August had never identified as a hero. She had never chosen to do what she did. Spending her entire life as a pawn in somebody else's wretched game. She was whatever they made her - a hero, a...
