𝓇𝓊𝓃𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒

Part 30- little bit of honesty

The next morning you're standing in the corridor, fiddling your hands with each other as nerves surface all over your body.

Your heart is beating violently against your chest as your breathing becomes jagged.

You've been dreading this moment since you first banged on the compound door that miserable night, and now it's finally here and seemingly unavoidable.

Your instincts are telling you to run, to just leave and not look back. It's what you want to do, and what you probably will do.

You don't know if you can fit in with the avengers, more over Natasha after what she's done, reasoning behind her decision or not.

But your heart is telling you that you need to do this first.

You and Bucky weren't exactly best of palls whilst in the red room, mainly due to the situations where he wasn't Bucky at all. But you feel like you owe him this, some form of comfort surrounding the mystery behind your time spent with each other.

Regardless of what you try and tell yourself, the pair of you formed a bond.

Even after seeing and experiencing some of the horrors of the winter soldier, when you looked a Bucky, you didn't see them, you only saw Bucky, which is what he liked about you.

You didn't view him for his sins, you just looked at him for who he was, an innocent.

You wipe your clammy hands on your leggings before taking a nerve wracking step towards the super soldiers door, inhaling a deep breath before lifting your fist to gently knock on the white glossed wood.

Bucky opens his room door, surprised to see you standing there.

He takes in your appearance silently, making a mental note of your shaky legs, your hands fiddling with each other and your eyes that don't seem to focus on anything for more than a few seconds.

You clear your throat and look down before looking back up to him, "you got a moment?" you ask, waving your hand towards his room in a hint to let you in.

He thinks for a moment. He wants to say no, to go back to doing nothing as usual, but the almost vulnerable state you're in forces feelings of empathy to overtake him and he slowly nods his head and steps aside to let you in.

You take in a deep, shaky breath before walking into his room, nervously taking a seat on his bed, your legs stretched out with your back against the headboard.

Bucky shuts the door and walks over, mirroring your position on the bed, leaving a comfortable gap between you.

Your heart is racing as you feel his eyes on you. Your hands fiddle with each other in your lap and your breathing continues in unsteady beats.

"Ten years ago Natasha got out of hydra, escaped the red room and was fortunate to be hired by shield" you start, talking slowly, trying to will your voice to refrain from breaking.

Bucky has a million things he wants to say and yet nothing at the same time.

He wants to say something, even though he isn't sure what it was, it feels urgent. However he stays quiet, listening intently as he observes your facial expression as your nervous eyes flicker between your lap and the wall opposite you.

"I don't know why Dreykov took it so personally. Widows died everyday, we lost people everyday, but loosing Natasha angered him in a way I can't explain"

You shuffle in your seat, bending your knees to your chest, feeling almost exposed and wanting them close.

"Everything got harder after that, the training tripled, the rules hardened, the torture and experiments got more persistent, the guards got rougher. It was hard"