Lacuna [1] {Completed}

Chapter Fourteen

"Mauerbauretraurigkeit (n.) the inexplicable urge to push people away, even close friends you really like."

Erin's endless parade of funerals started with her grandfather when she was 17. Of all the funerals she had attended in her life, this one she remembered the clearest. She hadn't cried during the ceremony or when she gave her elegy about how much her grandfather meant to her. She didn't even cry when they lowered him into the ground or when she was forced to recall her favorite memories to indulge the mourners who had come.

No, the tears came when she closed the door to her bedroom after listening to a never-ending stream of apologies that came from people she didn't know. After her parents had gone to bed and James had gone out, Erin let her grief flow freely.

It washed over her like waves, the realization of it hitting her over and over again. It wasn't until nearly an hour later that she looked up through her puffy eyes and noticed the flowers that had been set on her desk. It was a huge beautiful bouquet. Every kind of petal seemed to flow from it and in the middle was a single white rose that acted as the centerpiece of the arrangement.

Erin got up slowly got up from her spot on her bedroom floor and walked over to examine the bouquet more closely. She ran her fingers over the lilies, peonies, and carnations. They were real, the petals soft under her touch. She wondered when her mom had, had time to set them in her room, or if they were from James.

Then her fingers brushed against something too hard to be a flower petal or even a leaf. Erin ran her fingers over the spot again and noticed a card nestled in between two of the lilies. She plucked it from the flowers and read it.

Our deepest condolences

-D.K.

****

Erin already forgot what she had been dreaming about when a knock on the door woke her up.

"Erin?" Wanda said from outside her door, "Breakfast is ready."

Erin groaned, "Be down in a minute!" She mumbled still half asleep. She tried to turn over but noticed she was trapped by an arm, Bucky's human arm.

Her eyes shot open. Erin looked down to see his arm lightly wrapped around her waist. Her senses came alive as she felt his steady breath hit the back of her neck and and heard the sound of his light snoring in her ear.

They had fallen asleep. Bucky had spent the night. In her bed. Next to her. Oh gosh.

A fluttery feeling washed over Erin. A beat that felt like it was being driven by a hammer reverberated inside her chest.

Breath. She commanded herself. She wiggled around to face Bucky, but he didn't move. He was still sound asleep. She thought about nudging him awake, but something held her back for a moment, like it was commanding her to stay in the moment for a little while longer.

So she took the opportunity to study him. His face was so peaceful. It was so different from the hard lines of his face when he was awake, like a mask he couldn't quite shed. Something about it made Erin's heart ache a little. A strand of dark hair hung in his face and she gently pushed in out of the way.

Her eyes followed the lines of his face and down his neck. She had never noticed before, but his neck was littered with tiny scars and indent marks that looked like they never fully healed. She looked at his chest wondering how many scars he had underneath the red cotton shirt he was wearing. How many did he have to prove his years of service to war and then HYDRA? Her eyes flashed back to his face as he moved his head slightly, like he was trying to sink further into Erin's pillow.