haven ; 𝐛. 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 , 𝟏

020. too long

TWENTY—TOO LONG
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I COULDN'T BELIEVE how goddamn gullible my parents were. It was impressive, really. The way they ate up the falsified information like it was candy, nodding their heads with wide eyes, looking like the proudest parents in the world.

Of course, I knew it was all bullshit. The only reason they were happy was that they thought I'd found the one. Please. If they could have arranged my marriage when I was fifteen, they would have. It was like they were beyond impressed that I'd found someone stupid enough to fall in love with me in the first place. 

And that was why I felt the need to break into the conversation with a, "well, it seems like we've all caught up on lost time, so will you two be leaving in the next twelve hours like we planned?" I forced a smile onto my face, but it felt--and probably looked--more like a grimace. 

My mother's easy smile slipped off her face as she slid her gaze from Bucky to me. "You really expect us to--"

"Yep." I bristled. Bucky's fingertips brushed against my leg in warning, so softly that I barely felt it on my thigh. Heat rose in my cheeks as he tapped three times as if to say, calm down. You're going to make them suspicious of us.

Which, I suppose, is true. But I was so sick of them snooping around my life and making snap judgments about my choices and looking down to me as if I were the muck on their shoes that I felt a wave of emotion roll over me in a matter of one second, a violent mix of blinding fury and crippling grief for the loss of what was supposed to be the most reliable relationship in my life. I admit if Bucky weren't here, with his fingertips grazing my leg like they were, gently reminding me that he was here with me, on my side, I may have lashed out even more. But I resisted, my anger slightly ebbing away at the point where our skin touched, those small points becoming the reason I could only feel crushing sadness instead. 

Thankfully, my usually oblivious father got the clue and nodded. "You know, dear," he turned to Mom, "I do believe we've overstayed our welcome. It's high time we were headed home." Glancing at me, he added, "Thank you for your...hospitality, Elda. I think we'll just go up and pack our things so we're ready when it's time to go to the airport."

Holding my mouth in a tight-lipped smile, I watched as they both got up, climbing the stairs to--finally--get ready to leave.

"God, I thought they'd never leave," I groaned softly, leaning back on the couch. 

Bucky, still sitting straight-backed beside me, looked over and cocked an eyebrow. "You've still got twelve hours until they really leave. Besides," he added, "they haven't been horrible guests. They're your parents." He shrugged.

I flicked my eyes to him. "What are you saying?"

Shrugging again, Bucky looked away, his hand fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "I don't know, I just..." he sighed. "I just think you should act a little more grateful that your parents come to see you once in a while." His eyes got a cloudy look to them as he continued, "Even when my parents were alive, even when I lived with them, I didn't get to see them as much as I probably should have."

Rolling my eyes, I sat up and adjusted myself so I was looking straight at him. "You think I see them a lot?"

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Don't you?"

His utter confusion was so purely Bucky that my hardened exterior softened for a moment. "This is the first time I've seen them in two years, Buck. Ever since..." I caught myself dwelling on a memory and forced it out of my head, clearing my throat. "Never mind."