[The third spin off and fifth book in the "Leave Me Series"]
In which James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes is utterly alone in the 21st century.
Without Steve.
Without Ophelia.
This story will be based during the events before and during "The Falcon and th...
"Don't," Bucky said through gritted teeth. His hands clenched into fists, so tight that if anything had been inside of those muscular fingers it would have shattered. But he didn't need anything inside of them, because everything was already broken.
His body was broken.
His head was broken.
His heart was broken.
Looking at her ghost, his mouth agape now as she seemed so tangible. How could she be there when he knew that she wasn't? How could she be so real when he knew that she was just inside of his head. How could his heart beat so fast for her when she wasn't there? How could his hands long to touch her when he knew he'd fall through?
Taking deep breaths – like the ones she taught him to do back in their shitty apartment in Bucharest to calm down – didn't help.
He turned the TV off because it gave his hands something to do, but as he put the remote down he felt the plastic crack under his grip. Then he walked towards the washroom, pausing when he was next to Ophelia.
When she was real, she was the softest person in the world. So kind and without a hint of malice inside of her.
When she was haunting him, she had an edge of cruelty. Her words could be sharp, something she never could do when she was... her. It was almost as though the ghost he created in his mind was more Huntress than O. They were both broken that way, divided. A patchwork of different worlds. A monster created by the doctor.
Back when he dreamt of her in Cryo in Wakanda, she peeled him apart and wounded him. Now she was here, slowly picking apart his bones. Forcing him into a fragmented version of himself. Looking at her now, still beautiful even with a wicked glint in her eyes, he cocked his head to the side.
"You're not really here," he said to her. "And I think it's time for you go."
"Your one ultimatum. To run when you told me to. But I didn't, did I? And that got me killed."
"It wasn't... None of it was your fault."
"Then whose was it?"
He shook his head. "I won't go down that road, not anymore."
Walking past her now, he saw her lingering, head tilted to the side, a smile on her lips. Then he found solace behind the door, slamming it shut. He would never have shut a door in Ophelia's face. But that wasn't her out there. He cranked the shower handle as hot as it would go. The bathroom steamed up and he watched his reflection disappear, like it was he who was a ghost. And really, was he anything more than a ghost when he drifted through each day without purpose? What was he really waiting for? What was he hoping for in this second chance at life?
Peeling his clothes off, he stepped into the scalding hot stream and let his flesh turn red. He let his head get so dizzy with the heat that he forgot about everything else. Just the burning sensation across his skin. Arms reached up over his head, leaning against the shower wall, he hung his head and let the shower wash away the tears that were slipping from his eyes. He'd never been ashamed to feel. But sometimes he felt so much he didn't know what all that grief was hiding.
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I know you thirsty bitches wanted a shower scene, so here ya have it.
Anyways, going to keep shamelessly plugging my own published book "RED" Book I of the Blood Bound Series, which has been out four about five months now. Book II is coming out this year. It'd be cool if you could support this starving author who lost her job in the pandemic, thanks <3
