The Room

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I interlocked my clammy fingers together and followed Bucky to his room. It was a two story loft, but it was narrow, so if it were spread out on one story, it would roughly be almost the same size as a complete floor of the building. The wall was floor to ceiling glass on one side. The other sides were bare, with no paintings or posters on them.

"Well, um, this is the living room," he held a hand out to the area we were standing in. It had a dark leather couch and a big television. A small fridge was in the corner of the room, resting on the floor. He walked up a triplet of stairs to a hallway.

"My room is right down there, so if you need anything just let me know. Your room is right upstairs," he explained, showing me the way up the curved flight of stairs next to the corridor.

He held the door open for me as I stepped in. This was nothing like my room.

Not even close.

The furniture was so lavish that it was obviously Tony who decorated the room. The giant bed in the middle barely even took up half of the room space. The white sheets and white pillows contrasted with darkly painted mahogany side tables and dressers. There was a long, tall mirror laid flush against the wall next the bed. There were intricate designs carved into the wood that hugged the mirror on all sides. There was a white fur rug on the floor that I couldn't wait to grip and feel with my toes.

I even had my own bathroom. At home, all three of us shared one bathroom, which wan't the most convenient. Dad was about to move us into a bigger house right after I was born, but obvious obstacles rose up and we decided not to move. So this was possibly the highlight of my day.

Bright white walls, rose gold faucets, rose gold handles. It was like a dream. The shower even had a seat inside of it, which was weird, but if you're rich, who wouldn't? A wide vanity mirror sat above the sinks and I flipped the switch on to see the small bulbs all around illuminate the room.

"This is really nice, Bucky," I said. "Thank you for letting me stay with you."

"No, thank you Darby. I really needed this," he grinned.

He said it. He mentioned it before in his head, but now he was actually saying those words.

"What do you mean you needed this?" I questioned curiously.

"Well, I'm still sort of new here and everyone is still kind of cautious around me, I guess. Steve is the only one here I can talk to, but he's on missions all the time. I really needed this, I needed a friend," he smiled.

I couldn't hide the grin I was concealing for so long. I rubbed my arm and looked away, trying not to stare at him directly. He still had a glove on his hand and I was curious as to what it was.

He noticed me looking at his hand and my face felt hot.

"Darby, it's okay to look, I kinda need to show you this anyways," he slid the glove off his hand to reveal a shiny metal exterior.

My eyes grew wide and I attempted not to look for too long.

"You can touch if you want," he held his hand out.

I shook my head and glared at my hands.

"Oh, I see. Well, um, that okay. It is kinda weird but-"

Oh no, he thought I was disgusted by it. I was exactly the opposite. I was so intrigued by it, probably unlike anyone else had been.

"No, I didn't mean it like that. I'm just a little shook up from what I did to Steve. I don't know what I'm feeling right now, and that means my powers are unstable. I just...I don't want to hurt you," I sheepishly whispered.

"It's okay to be scared. Sometimes fear is what keeps you alive," he reassured.

"And sometimes it keeps you from doing things that need to be done," I added.

He smiled and shook his head. "You think differently Darby, it's refreshing."

I blushed a little. This was all new for me. How in the world do you communicate with a guy? How does any girl communicate with a guy when it feels like your heart is about to fling out of your chest? I've had this feeling when reading books. Sometimes the words are so well put together that you feel like you're a part of that story. Like you're the one in the romantic connection with the unlikely boy who moves in next door, or the one that bumps into a random stranger and falls in love with them.

Was this my story?

I won't lie, it started out pretty crappy.

But I think my story is going to get much better.

Unlimited || Bucky BarnesWhere stories live. Discover now