Réa, a half-human, half-Seraph, has spent her entire life locked in a tower, haunted by visions of a man in pain. Unbeknownst to her, this tortured soul is Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier. Their destinies intertwine as Bucky discovers a conn...
I don't know why I didn't open the door to tell Bucky 'goodbye'. I unlocked the deadbolt, and was going to...and then I just froze.
'It's not like he'd want to talk to me anyway. I've ignored him for twenty nine days...the longest twenty nine days of my life.'
I know I'm behaving poorly; I know my behaviour is hurting Bucky, and I don't want to...I never want to hurt him.
I just...I just don't know how to deal with knowing that he knows. I know that he already knew, but now he knows, and I just...I can't.
It's hard to not speak to him; it's even harder knowing my behaviour only hurts him because he's a good friend—a good man—not because he feels anything more for me.
How could he?
I'm broken...tainted...ruined.
From its place on the coffee table, my phone buzzes, temporarily pulling me from my thoughts. I pad over to the table and pick it up, seeing that I have a text from Bucky. I stare at the phone, and after several moments, another text comes in...also from Bucky.
I read them both.
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The fact that he's reminding me of the grounding technique he talks me through causes my heart to simultaneously soar and sink.
'He's just being a good friend. That's all it is.'
I turn on The Office and lie on my pallet in front of my couch, staring at the TV but not really seeing it.
----------------------------------------
I bolt upright, panic clawing at my insides and crawling up my throat.
'Just a nightmare. Not real. You're not there. He's not here.'
I repeat that, over and over, but the panic doesn't lessen.
I go through the grounding technique that Bucky taught me, and it helps some, but I still feel the talons of fear lodged in my chest.
'Bucky...I need Bucky.'
I grab my phone, ready to send a text to Bucky when I remember that he's on a mission.
'Text him anyway. Or call him!' that miniscule part of me says.
I can't do that, so I do the only other thing I can think of.
I pad to my door; taking a deep breath, I open it and pad across the corridor to Bucky's room. I reach for the knob, surprised when it turns.
Pushing open the door, I step into Bucky's room. I make my way to his bathroom, and open the cabinet, searching for his cologne. I don't find it, but I do find a stash of his shampoo and body wash. I pick up two bottles—one of each—and open the caps, one at a time. I inhale the scents—and they help—but something's not exactly right. I open the caps and hold both bottles to my nose, and that's it...the combination of the two is as close to Bucky as it can be without him being here.
I close the caps and place the bottles back, then take one of each from the back of the stash.
'I shouldn't take his stuff...' part of me thinks; the rest of me ignores it.
Making sure that everything is how it was when I got here—minus the two bottles I'm holding—I leave Bucky's room and return to mine.
I settle back onto my pallet and sit for a long time, sniffing his soap.
"I love you, Bucky," I whisper, just needing to say the words aloud, just once.
'I wish things were different,' I think, right before I fall asleep.
