Spirit in the House

Chapter 7

You sat cross-legged on the sofa while Bucky was fixing himself up. He told your best friend he could see your spirit and ended up with a split lip.

"You're not doing it right."

"Really?" Bucky replied with a sigh and turned to you, a painful smirk on his face. "Wanna do it for me?"

"I would if I could... you know, hold things."

He laughed silently and continued dabbing at the skin around his wound with a disinfectant-soaked cotton. You leaned closer to him and looked into the mirror.

"It won't heal well if you don't put it on your lip."

He whined, still avoiding the wound. "But it hurts."

"Oh, just man up, James."

"Bucky."

"Sorry, what?" You frowned at him.

"My friends call me Bucky. Well, friend, singular, I'm not that popular."

"We're friends?" you exclaimed with a big smile and he rolled his eyes.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Bucky made funny mewling sounds as he cleaned his wound. Then he sighed dramatically and slumped back into the sofa cushions.

"You're a big baby," you snickered. "Show me your lip."

He turned and let you take a look at his swollen lip. Despite the cut, his lips looked soft and lush. His lips parted, showing a double row of white teeth. You noticed that one of them was slightly crooked. A strange feeling broke your concentration. It felt like someone had turned the heat up inside your chest. It enveloped you like a warm blanket.

Bucky saw you staring at his lips and frowned. "You okay?"

"Fine," you mumbled, moving away from him.

A moment of silence settled between you. You were both trying to wrap your mind around what happened today.

"Can't believe your friend cheated on her fiancé with Steve," Bucky sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hand.

"Steve?"

Bucky grinned and pain shot through his split lip. "That guy your friend humped in the restroom," he continued and you nodded. "He's my best friend, Steve Rogers."

Your eyes opened wide. "No way! You know Captain America? He's like the best stripper ever."

"Don't call him that to his face," Bucky laughed, pressing two fingers under his bottom lip to soothe the ache. "He prefers the term exotic dancer."

"Ah, he wouldn't be able to hear me anyway." You shrugged, smiling tightly. "Your friend has questionable morals. He slept with the future bride."

Bucky raised his head, an offended look on his face. "I could say the same about your friend. She was the future bride after all."

"Guess they're both to blame. No matter how hot your friend is, she shouldn't have cheated on her future husband."

"Wow, that's some great advice," his tone was mocking, yet playful. "You should start a hotline."

Instead of throwing him a dirty look, you burst out laughing and Bucky found himself fixated on you. He felt a soft flutter in his stomach and tried to push the feeling aside. A knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts.

When he opened the door, a young woman smiled at him. Her eyes were a striking, deep blue, her hair long and black. She was wearing a white cotton shirt and tight jeans that accentuated her long legs. There was something feral about her.