Olivia Vitale is trying her best to get her life back on track. After escaping an abusive relationship, she moves back to her home city of Joy. She promises her roommate Carol to take it slow with relationships. That promise becomes harder to keep a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
« 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚-𝑵𝒊𝒏𝒆: 𝑺𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒃𝒚𝒆𝒔 »
𝐎𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐚❜𝐬 hip is starting to hurt from the counter digging into her side. Bucky's leather jacket is slung over her shoulders, and she watches him move around the room, securing the various weapons. She hates this. More than anything else but she insisted on coming. Sitting home alone with her thoughts would have been much worse.
Sam's been trying to calm her down. Surprisingly, he's been understanding and supportive when it comes to her worries. It could be her pessimism at fault, but he's good at separating her from her relationship with Bucky. The latter of which he's far from a fan of.
"Heard Bucky say you want to cut his hair off," she chuckles and takes a sip water. It's hard trying to appear calm as her boyfriend inspects semi and fully automatic rifles. Extra magazines and boxes of bullets are on a table beside him. There's even a handful of grenades.
"It's not a good look with the rest of the club," Sam replies while continuing to clean his handgun. Every piece has been pulled apart and he's now doing the second wipe-down before putting it together again.
"I thought this thing was about doing what you want," she says with a raised eyebrow.
"To a certain degree. There're rules in every place. Happens that one of ours is the president keeps a military cut," Sam calmly explains but that edge is starting to rise again.
"He's made other rule changes," Olivia tries to point out.
"This one worries me more," he grumbles back.
She can't help but wonder if those grumbling words are part of the training to become a member. Imagining Peter saying anything like that makes her laugh, but it works pretty well for the rest. Maybe it makes them seem tougher and more unapproachable.
"I could tell," she whispers beneath her breath.
"Look it really ain't any of your business," Sam scoffs and roughly puts the trigger back in its place.
"I'm not looking for a fight, Sam. I was just wondering," she says while her palms defensively rise.
"It's better if you don't do too much of that stuff," he grunts and agitatedly keeps reassembling the weapon.
He's glaring, eyes saying much more and that pisses her off more than she can admit. The tone is one she's far too used to. Utterly patronizing. Maybe Bucky senses where she's heading because he instantly makes his way over to them and speaks before words can leave her mouth.
"We're gonna be movin' out in 'bout five minutes," Bucky says, "get the rest of the guys ready."
Sam nods while Olivia continues to glare in his direction but neither of them speak. Bucky wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her closely to him. The rapid beating of his pulse surprises her and she glances up. He doesn't look unsure or nervous in the least, but they are in the Compound. He isn't allowed to show those things here, she supposes. Sam gives him a nod and turns to leave, making his way towards Pietro.
