𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄 | 𝟏𝟖+

12 || past

alexa, play waiting game by banks

DAY 12

        Three knocks sounded from Amelia's doorway, tearing her attention away from the book she had been relishing in for the past two hours, her headache-ridden eyes flickering up to see James standing there with a plate of food in his hands. She couldn't stop her lips from popping open audibly at the sight of him bringing her dinner. 

        "I brought you some garlic roasted chicken to say thank you ... you know, for, uh, yesterday," he scrambled to find the right words that didn't sound too pathetic.  

        "You can cook," Amelia remarked with a raised eyebrow. 

        Bucky masked his grin as he stalked over to set the plate on her nightstand next to her bed she was sprawled out on. He briefly examined her baggy, brown t-shirt and black pants before gazing back up at her hazel eyes, which were watching him closely. 

        "I don't have much else to do around here." 

        She licked her lips softly before scooting up, patting the empty spot where her legs just were, motioning for him to sit down. "You don't have to thank me. You deserve to go outside, sometimes." 

        He watched her as she started to dig in to the food, her mouth chewing quietly and swallowing. A smile flashed upon her lips in approval as she glanced back up at him. His mind wandered back to his short conversation with Steve outside - he couldn't help but remember that Amelia was his therapist before she was James'. Although, he hadn't actually accepted her as such ... yet. 

        "What are you thinking about?" she continued. He mentally scoffed at her practically reading his mind again. 

        "How do you know I'm thinking about anything?"

        Her head tilted to the side as she finished swallowing another bite before she calmly said, "The space between your eyebrows scrunches up whenever you're deep in thought." 

        "Steve mentioned yesterday that you were his therapist." 

        The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. 

        "Does that upset you?" Amelia questioned tentatively. 

        Yes. 

        "I don't like feeling like he told you about me or told you to help me out or something," he mumbled lowly, looking down at his feet now. 

        It frustrated Bucky that he felt like a charity case. He didn't want to be seen as the person that everyone feared because of his past, his behavior. It just happened to work out that way all of the time. It frustrated him more that he cared at all what Amelia thought of him.

        "Steve told me about you, yes," she confirmed with a tiny nod, chewing up another bite. "But he didn't tell me to come here. I made that decision myself." 

        "Hmm." 

        Amelia could sense that James was beginning to shut down on her again. Once the brief sounds started coming out, that's when the conversation would fizzle out. Setting her empty plate on the nightstand once again, she wiped her lips with the back of her hand before saying, "Hmm nothing. Use your words, James." 

        James peered up at her in amusement at her assertiveness. Something about the way she told him what to do made fire erupt inside of his stomach. "Why did you want to come here?" 

        "From what Steve told me about you, it just made it seem like everyone had already given up on trying to reason with you," she admitted as she nibbled at the inside of her lip. "Like you were a lost cause. I like to prove people wrong, I guess."

       "You think it's possible that you can prove people wrong about me?" 

         "We are sitting here having an actual conversation, aren't we?" she swiftly responded, sitting up as she wrapped her arms around her knees, resting her chin on them. 

        Her round eyes were like pools of light brown gold staring back him, her curled hair swooshing around the frame of her face. James wondered what it would feel like to run his fingers through her tresses, to have them in his fist from behind her body. He pushed those thoughts back down where they came from. 

        "What made you want to ... help people? Be a psychologist or whatever," he wondered out loud. It was so easy to talk to her. 

        Her tongue rolled across her bottom lip as she pondered her answer. If she expected him to be honest with her, she had to be honest right back. "If I tell you, you have to agree to have a session with me tomorrow."

        She watched humorously as James narrowed his eyes sarcastically her way, his lips forming into a thin line as he thought over her offer. He seemed too curious to not accept, and she knew that he couldn't deny. 

        "Fine," he grumbled. 

        Amelia's mind wandered to her mother - her reason behind her career choice, life choices, any choices she made up until this point in her life. Her mother losing her voice of reason and sanity was the whole basis of Amelia's "mommy" issues. It wasn't exactly easy having to watch her mother talk to people who weren't there at the age of seven. 

        "My mother is a paranoid schizophrenic. So, I guess I have a thing for trying to cure the incurable."