Little Wing - Bucky Barnes x OC

Burn

A/N: This week has been a lot for me. I've been busy with things around my apartment and work was particularly demanding, so editing was a bit rushed. I apologize if there are any typos.

If you need me, I'll be drinking a few very strong cocktails and watching the finale of WandaVision.

~

Dove was hunched over the toilet, puking up the contents of her stomach for the second time since waking up. There wasn't even anything solid coming out by that point. Just the water that was magically left by her bed— by Steve, she figured. She couldn't even keep down the aspirin that was sitting beside the glass.

Once the waves of nausea had mostly subsided, she crawled over to the counter and clumsily stood to her feet. Regret hit her the instant she decided to look in the mirror. Her insanely thick, platinum hair looked somehow even messier than usual. Her makeup from the night before was smeared around her eyes in dark streaks. Guess she had forgotten to take it off before passing out. She honestly couldn't remember.

Every part of her body ached and felt feverish, yet also freezing at the same time.

After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she went back to her room and wrapped her hair up into something between a ponytail and bun. She finally climbed back into bed, tugging her covers over her head and letting out a lengthy sigh.

Foggy memories from the night before were echoing through her mind. She remembered almost everything up until halfway through the car ride— albeit the images were foggy. She figured the alcohol had finally caught up with her and she had just blacked out then, but everything before that was fairly clear. She remembered seeing Bucky and Steve, and that damned bottle of liqueur, and Kyle, and of course, the punch. All of it whirled around in her mind, making her headache that much more painful.

She groaned, smacking her hands over her face at the memory of moaning Bucky's name to Kyle. And then he yelled at her in front of the whole party. And then Bucky had the audacity to punch him. No matter how much he deserved it, it was sure to cause a tidal wave of gossip around town—which was the last thing Dove needed. She was mortified.

She grumbled curses under her breath, vowing to never drink again, even though she knew that was probably a lie. But that's just what people did. They swore they'd never even think of drinking again and as if time itself erased the memory of how bad hangovers can be, by the next weekend they're getting trashed once again. Then starting the cycle over.

A soft knock at her door was followed by Steve's muffled voice coming from the other side. "Hey Dovey, you up yet?"

She huffed out a breath, flicking her covers off her head. "Come in," she yelled in a sing-song voice, but it sounded like more of a croak.

He pushed the door open, giving her a sorry smile. "Are you dying?"

"Yep."

"Figured. Sugary drinks will do that to ya," he confirmed as he walked over and sat on the edge of her bed. "Do you want me to grab you anything? Food? Water?"

She cringed. "No food. Not yet at least, but it'd be cool if you could refill my water and get me more aspirin. I tried to take the ones you left me, but they didn't exactly stay in my stomach..."

"I didn't get you the aspirin. Or the water." He shook his head. "Bucky did."

"Why was Bucky in my room?" she asked with wide eyes.

Steve chuckled, raising his brows. "Well, he uh— he was pretty worried about you last night. He wanted to make sure you were okay and insisted we checked on you once we got back from dropping your friends off. When we peeked in here, you were out cold, but he said he wanted to make sure you woke up to water so he got you a glass and then some aspirin along with it. Pretty nice of him, huh?"