xvi. its time to go

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chapter sixteen
ITS TIME TO GO

tw: pain, loss, more pain & death




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1944 , LONDON 

Reality was like water.

It kept slipping threw her fingers. 

Clara was in her bedroom, her bedroom in Brooklyn. Worn wooden floor beneath her feet, a wide spacious bed with soft sheets covering the pile of feathers. The warm summer breeze blew threw the pale curtains thrown her window. The golden sun was high in the air, casting the most golden colour over the city that never slept. 

The sound of small bare feet ran against the worn wooden floor, laughter echoed in her ears. 

"Peter, get back here." Her own voice said, as she ran after a small little boy with a head full of dark curls and dark brown eyes, "We have to get you dressed."

The other Clara beckoned the small boy towards her, greying hair swinging over her shoulder as she passed. Someone appeared in the doorway as present Clara walked out of the bedroom, he also had a familiar head of dark hair. Her chest tightened when she met the ice blue eyes of Bucky Barnes, he turned around for the small boy, named Peter to wrap around his leg tightly. He was in a pair of small red boxers with some form of tin man on the front. 

"Oh, dear. Are you being cheeky again?" Bucky asked, a deep laughter passing threw his lips as he picked Peter up and threw him over his shoulder, "Right, young man, you must get dressed before your mother has a heart attack."

Tears welled in present Clara's eyes, she covered her trembling lips, when Steve sighed, walking out of Peter's bedroom down the hall, "Oh look, Uncle Buck's finally arrived."

Two long, muscular arms suddenly wrapped around Clara, wrapping gently around her shoulders and a face beside hers; their cheeks smiling wide. Large fingers intertwined with her scared hands, when a bright camera flashed in front of her eyes. Clara winced at the brightness, turning around to look at Steve, Bucky and a teenage boy stood behind her. 

𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎 , s.rogersDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora