┌ Paradise (Part 1/?) ┘

289 5 0
                                    

"Your bags, Mr. Wilson."
a man handed Sam's luggage to him and Sam thanked him, fumbling for a moment before managing to carry them all properly. He had just gotten off the ferry, and was finally on the island where he would be staying for two weeks. He was very much looking forward to this holiday.

He hailed a taxi and put all his things in the boot before clambering in and telling the driver the destination. As they drove off, Sam relaxed and closed his eyes. The sun was shining through the window, it was warm on his face. He couldn't wait to go to the beach, and just forget all his worries, laying in the sun. It took them about twenty minutes to get to the hotel, and once Sam was standing in front of it, he marvelled at its size. It was bigger than it looked in the pictures.

He entered the hotel, luckily it had revolving doors, and walked up to the front desk. The woman at the desk looked up at him.

"Sam Wilson." Said Sam, and she turned to her computer, checking the archives.
"Room 113," she said, handing him a keycard and a wristband. "You can use both to open the door." She said, and then turned back to her computer. Sam nodded slowly, examining the items in his hand.

"Thank you." he said, but she didn't pay him any attention. He rolled his eyes and began making his way to where he assumed the lift was. Luckily, he found it, and checked the keycard for floor number. First floor, got it. He put in the number 1 on the keypad and the lift began to take him upwards. There was quiet jazz playing in the lift, and Sam took out his phone as he waited for it to stop on the right floor.

He had only one text - how disappointing. It was from Sarah, asking if he'd got there safely. He quickly replied, assuring her that he was fine. He turned his phone off and slid it back into his pocket. The lift dinged and the doors opened. Sam hauled his luggage along the hall, briefly looking out the window to the side as he did. The view was pretty spectacular.

Along the front of the hotel was a beach with a pier, a multiple shops and restaurants. The ocean splashed on the sand, almost calling to him. He quickly resumed his search for room 113. After passing a few people, he found the room. Fumbling with his keycard, he swiped it across the pad on the door, dropping some of his bags in the process. The door unlocked, but Sam was too busy scrambling to pick up his things.

"Here, let me help you."

Sam looked up to see a man with long dark hair, pulled into a bun. He had the prettiest blue eyes Sam had ever seen, and he was stunned into silence as soon as their gazes met. The man blinked at Sam, before bending down to help with his bags. Sam, still too awestruck to speak, gathered the rest of his things and pushed open his door. He dumped everything in the room before turning back to the man and taking the remaining bags from him.

"Thanks." said Sam bashfully, smiling at the man. He returned the smile.
"No worries. I'm glad I could help." He said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "I'm James, by the way. But you can call me Bucky." He held out a hand for Sam to shake, and Sam did so, a fluttery feeling rippling through his stomach.
"I'm Sam." he said, pulling his hand back from their handshake. It felt as if it were buzzing from the contact.

"I hope I'll see you around, Sam." said Bucky, giving a subtle wink before turning to the door next to Sam's and swiping the keycard. He gave Sam one last look before entering the room, the door shutting behind him.

Sambucky One ShotsWhere stories live. Discover now