Dear James|| Bucky Barnes

five

emetophobia warning for the start of the chapter, it's brief but just a heads up.

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rough is an understatement to what Hope is feeling right now. Her throat was scratchy  and she felt as though she'd been knocked on the head with a brick, any wrong move and she'd puke every bit of fluid she had left in her stomach and that she did. The second she turned over she felt the need to run to the toilet and puke her guts up. She sat on the bathroom floor, cringing at the thought that the whole house likely could hear.

She jumps straight into the shower to wash all the remaining sick out of her hair, she felt gross. Slowly memories from last night begin to flood her brain and she seriously hates herself for it.

She wraps a arm fluffy towel around her body and makes her way straight downstairs, usually, she'd think twice about walking around the house in a towel, especially now there were two strangers living there, but if she didn't get any fluids down her asap, she would faint.#

she ran down the stairs and grabbed herself a glass from the cabinet and filled it up with water, she guzzled the whole thing down and re filled the glass once more.

"Someone's looking rough" James emerges from the lounge, still wearing yesterday's clothes, minus the t-shirt, of course.

"why are you always here, James?" she asks, she couldn't tolerate Barnes on the best of days, but today, absolutely not.

"Well, Steve didn't wanna drive me home after it took two of us to carry you in yesterday so you'r dad offered to let me stay again. we're buddies, you know. me and your paps" he says as he takes a seat on the edge of the kitchen counter.

any other time Hope would tell him to fuck off, but she's too scared of Barnes bringing up anything she doesn't remember from last night that's too mortifying for her to bare so she gives him a sarcastic grin instead.

"Why thank you, James. What a decent human being you are"

"yeah, and don't you forget it" he brings his cup of coffee up to his lips, disguising the fact he's most definitely laughing at his own joke.

"well, i'll be dying in my room" she says before picking up the glass of water that's sat next to her.

"wait, for what it's worth. I am genuinely sorry you got dragged into that last night" the comment seems genuine, and for a second a decent reply almost slips out of Hope's lips. "But i'm not sorry she think's we're screwing" there it is, a sarcastic comment.

"yeah, dream on James" she chuckles as she continues to make her way to the stairs.

"s'pose so, cause you'r new step brother threatened to kick my ass if i tried anything with you" he jumps down from the counter and places the mug that was in his hands into the sink.

"he did?"

"yup, apparently i have a history" he shrugs his shoulders as though he has no idea what that's meant to mean.

"yeah, you don't say"

🌊🌊🌊

"please Hope, it's two days a week and we get paid. Pretty please, i don't wanna do this alone" Wanda says over the phone sat on speaker. Hope's sat on her bed painting her nails doing anything to keep her mind off this hangover.

"Wanda, i can't even swim"

"the kid's don't actually drown, the pools like 3 feet deep, it's just a few hour's sat in the sun while getting paid, we do that anyway" she explains.

"I'll think about it"

"so that's a yes?"

"no, that's a i'll think about it"