Hush, Hush

3

"You cheating son of a bitch!" I yelled, grabbing the nearest object and chucking it at Bucky. He caught the pillow mid-air and his face was cloaked in guilt, he opened his mouth, but I stabbed a finger at him. "No! Don't you try and say sorry!"

           The tears were hot as they slid down my cheeks, and I was trying so hard to keep from collapsing to the floor and crying my eyes out.

I loved Bucky. I loved him so much. Yet, his best friend had to tell me what he did. Every piece of me wanted to believe that the video wasn't true, that the man in front of me wasn't the one who enjoyed his relapse into drugs and made out with some girl, but it was him.

           Bucky ran a hand through his tousled hair and turned away. He sighed, "Steve, I'm sorry. I should've told you." I released a strained breath and shook my head, refusing to meet his gaze.

           "I had to find out from Sam," I said, "Sam!"

           "Darling—"

I snapped, "No! Don't you dare call me 'darling'! I can't even look at you, James." Bucky's shoulders dropped and he looked over my tear-streaked face, before I had enough of him being in this god forsaken apartment.

           The same apartment I made love to him in.

           And the same apartment I'd say goodbye to him in.

I lifted my gaze and kept my voice steady enough to say, "I thought you were better than that, James. You're still the same, and I should've known. To think that you would give up drugs and partying." I got up and grabbed the letterman hanging off the edge of the bed. "We're done. So, you can take all of your shit back, and don't even think of stepping foot inside my café."

           Bucky was wide-eyed as I shoved the letterman into his chest. His eyes were glossy with tears and filled with hurt, his mouth hanging open, and by the look on my face he knew he lost me. Bucky swallowed thickly and nodded his head, his final word a breath of a whisper, "Okay."

           And he was gone.

Bucky's P.O.V

           "Sam, I need you to come pick me up." I sighed into the phone, glancing both ways down the slick street. I was perched on the curb, my bare feet resting on the wet asphalt, and I was huddled in my letterman to protect from the drizzle of rain that was making my hair wet.

My roommate asked, "Alright, man. Where you at?"

           "A mile down the road from Steve's apartment..." I lifted my freehand and brushed my hair back, it was wet enough to stay in place.

           "Okay, don't do anything stupid, Barnes." Sam warned.

           "Don't worry, I've already done that." I ended the call and pushed my phone back into my pocket, staring down at my feet, and hunching deeper into my letterman.

           Sam pulled over in front of me and I got to my feet, quickly ducking into the civic. The guy in the driver seat paused and stared at the wreck of a man sitting next to him, before shaking his head. I had my head leaned back against the headrest and when I realized the car wasn't moving, I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at Sam.

           "What?"

           "Dude, you get kicked off the team and lose your boyfriend in the same day." Sam rest his hands on the steering wheel and gazed out at the dark landscape, the windshield wipers sliding across the windshield every once and awhile. He looked back at me, "You fucked up, man."