haven ; 𝐛. 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 , 𝟏

010. the challenge

TEN—THE CHALLENGE
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THE FIRST THING I heard was a soft, slow rhythm of breathing, presumably Bucky's. I kept my eyes closed as I let the rest of my senses wake up, the next one being touch. I could feel a wall of warm flesh beside me, my head curled up into his side. My legs were bent, my knees brushing against his warm flesh.

I opened my eyes and inhaled sharply.

Just as I'd felt, my head was curled into a cocoon beneath where his arm would be, tucked against his side as though I were meant to be there. Eyes level with his torso, I watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest, his breathing easy. He's still asleep, I noticed, and quietly moved away so I could tilt my head up, my own breath catching in my throat as I saw him.

His eyes were closed, but not squeezed shut. His lips fell open with the lack of muscle use in his face. I felt a small grin tug at the corners of my lips. He looked peaceful. The lines between his eyebrows were mere impressions in his skin, just barely a reminder of his perpetual concern. His fleshy hand, though, clutched at his shirt, holding it in his fist. The only sight of distress, I reached out before I knew what I was doing, and laid my palm on the back of his fist. His hands were taut with tension, but I felt the slightest bit of release under the pressure of my warm skin. His fingers slowly unwrapped from their deadly grip on his shirt, loose enough for me to lift his hand up and away from the fabric.

Unconsciously, he found my fingers, gently wrapping them around his own. My stomach flipped. We're holding hands.

Such a trivial thing to say in a mostly meaningless moment. I felt like a teenager with her first boyfriend. But I was not a teenager, Bucky was not my first boyfriend, and he wasn't even awake. He wouldn't remember this when he opened his eyes.

Oh, but then he was. His eyelids fluttered open, fatigue casting a misty fog over his features. First seeing our hands entwined, I watched his eyebrows raise in surprise, then release the knot of tension as he relaxed. I'd begun to rub small circles on the patch of skin that my thumb could reach, smiling in smugness as he let a shaky breath out through his lips.

Then Bucky shifted his eyes to mine. He didn't do anything outright, but I was good at seeing the soft recognition in a person's eyes after having gone through an ordeal. I'd seen it several times with Sam.

Blinking up at him, I let my lips curl in greeting. "Morning, soldier," I teased gently.

He ripped his hand out of mine and stood up hastily, scrambling to his feet. The way his chest rose and fell with labored breaths gave me the idea that I'd done something very, very wrong. He was stumbling through the room, grabbing a pair of jeans and aiming for the doorway.

"Bucky?" I asked, hesitantly standing up. "What'd I do?"

He shook his head sharply, squeezing his eyes shut. "Stop it," he said, his voice barely a hoarse whisper.

My shoulders slumped with guilt. "Bucky, I'm sorry, I—"

"Don't," he interrupted, his eyes hard and voice cold. He leaned into the doorframe as if he wished he could sink into the wood, disappearing from my view. "Stay away from me."

I didn't realize that I'd been stepping closer to him, trying to reach him, to touch him, like I had been nearly two minutes ago. My feet stopped abruptly. Holding my hands up in front of me, I tried to let him see that I was of no danger to him. Unless it isn't me he's afraid of causing harm, I thought with a skipping heartbeat.

He clenched his jaw once, then spun away and down the hall. I hurried after him, calling out his name again before the bathroom door clicked shut. Less than a minute passed before he came back out, looking up and down the hallway, latching his eyes on mine. Without a word, he turned on his heel and stalked out, aiming for the front door.

"Bucky, please talk to me," I pleaded, following him quickly.

Bucky's words were cutting. "Why should I?" He said, a hint of a sneer curling his words. "We barely know each other."

The pain of his throwing my words back at me rumbled in my chest and I couldn't do anything to stop him from storming outside.

It seemed like he just needed some space. And I would give it to him. Besides, that was the only consistent part of our...acquaintanceship. We get closer, almost talking normally, then I screw it up, he storms off, we take time for ourselves, then I try to make things right, and then we go on for the rest of the day on thin ice. It was getting exhausting. But I couldn't bring myself to chase after him. Not yet.

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"Hey, are you okay?"

He grunted and turned his head to show he'd heard me. "What do you think?" He grumbled.

I sighed and crossed my arms. For almost twenty minutes, I'd retreated into my bedroom to inwardly complain about his constant mood swings, but found myself staring out the window at the back of him. He'd gone out to my garden, standing close enough to look like he was checking for growing weeds, but far enough for me to see that he wasn't actually looking at the plants at all. He wasn't looking anywhere. His eyes were closed in deep thought while his hand was at his side, clenching and unclenching in a fist.

And now, I was here, playing my role in our sick little script of this short-lived friendship. "Okay," I sighed, "I'm sorry. I don't know what I did, or said, or why it was so offensive to you, but I'm sorry."

He turned around slowly. "You can't apologize for something you don't know you did."

I shrugged, throwing my hands up in the air. "Well, at least I did it, right? Because I'm pretty sure you're not willing to talk about your past, no matter how much closer we get over these few weeks." I stepped closer to him, frustration ebbing out of my pores. "Honestly, Bucky, how do you expect to stay here and not get to know each other? It's not possible."

He shook his head. "I'll manage."

I groaned. "I mean, come on. We just slept together."

Bucky cocked an eyebrow, his lips tugging up in amusement.

"That's not what I meant," I stammered, cheeks burning with embarrassment, "we didn't...I meant that we...we slept—we slept in the same bed, but nothing else...happened."

The slight amusement fell from his face, and I found myself missing it. "That's not how I work," he said softly. "I don't make friends."

"What about Steve?"

"That's different. That was before...everything."

"Fair enough. But Sam?"

He scowled. "He's not even a friend." Licking his lips, he shook his head again. "I just met him."

I slowly sidled up to him, leaving a few feet between us as I looked up into his sparkling, sad eyes. "Well, I'm awfully good at making friends. So I accept the challenge with open arms." I grinned at his look of surprise. "We'll be friends soon. You'll see, Bucky."

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hey hey hey i followed through and posted a chapter today! in honor of infinity war today, i wanted to wish you all good luck to those who are seeing it today! i, unfortunately, have to wait until next thursday bc me and my friend are really good at procrastinating for movie tickets lol. but yeah, nO sPOILERS or i will sLIT yOUR tHROAT

lol i'm joking i love you all but seriously. don't you dare spoil it for me or the people who won't be seeing it for a while.

published on: april 27, 2018