18 - Red String of Hope

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"So, do you want to share some dessert?"

Lily looked up, barely noticing the man who was sitting in front of her. "Huh? Sure, sure."

"I heard the molten lava cake is particularly good here," the man smiled. Frankly, Lily didn't even remember his name—Robbie? Randall? The man called a waiter that was passing by and ordered a portion of the molten lava cake. Lily was spacing out, so she didn't bat an eye.

"Lily," he called, looking genuinely concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all," she chuckled nervously. "It's just that I'm not good at... this." She gestured around randomly. "It's been a few years of multiple failed dates and that leads to probably dying alone when I'm old. I'm sorry."

"It's alright," the man smiled warmly. "Do you wanna go back to my place after this?" His hand slowly crept up the table and touched Lily's hand, and she was afraid of being impolite so she felt like she couldn't do anything. She replied with an awkward grin—before suddenly saved by her ringing phone.

She peeked at the screen and it said that Steve was calling. Her eyes widened and instantly her heart throbbed faster.

"I'm sorry, I have to get this," she flashed her phone to the man in front of him and ran outside before he could say anything.

"Lil, there's been a turn of events," Steve said as soon as she picked up. He sounded excited, as he talked faster than usual. "Scott Lang appeared."

"Scott Lang—you mean that Ant-Man guy? Didn't you say he was gone after the snap too?" Lily stuttered, still feeling a bit lost about what Steve was talking about.

"Exactly—it means that we have a chance to bring them back. Scott said he knows some things that might work."

"I—I don't know what to say," she whispered, feeling too giddy to say anything. Her knees were weak, so she stepped back to lean on the brick walls of the restaurant.

"It's the best news we've got in five years," Steve continued, and Lily could just imagine him smiling really widely. "I'm gonna try—there's no harm in trying, right?"

"Yeah, of course," she quickly replied. "Steve, I know you're on fire and everything, but... The most important thing is you have to make it out alive."

"I'm not gonna—"

She interrupted with a heavy tone. "Don't die, okay? I can't lose anyone else anymore."

After a moment of silence, The Cap answered, "Thank you for worrying about me—I'm gonna be fine. I have everyone else with me." Lily could feel the determination in his voice, so she felt a little relieved because she knew Steve would keep his words. "I gotta go now."

"Alright. Call me if anything happens, okay?"

"Got it. See you later," Steve said and hung up.

Lily put the phone in her pocket and covered her face with her hands, breathing heavily. She was almost shaking—she was overwhelmed with emotions, anxiety being the most dominant one. These superheroes—a cheesy label, but it's true—seem to always create miracles. She couldn't even imagine what Steve was gonna do this time—go to space and fight aliens? This could result in either a good or bad situation... but she trusts Steve. There hadn't been any moment where she questioned Captain America's faith.

The girl walked back into the restaurant in a hurry. She wanted to go home as fast as possible and wait for any news there. She reached her table and her date was about to say something, but she quickly grabbed her purse and put on an apologetic expression on her face. "Look, Roy—I'm so sorry, but I really have to go now. I have an urgent business to take care of."

The man was too startled to even say anything.

"This has been fun, thanks for dinner!" She decided to shake his hand to unfreeze the man and fled the scene without waiting for his reply.

"My name's not Roy, though..." he mumbled under his breath after realizing that his date for the night was gone.

***

When she got back home, Lily instantly ran into the room where Bucky slept when he was there—it was where she'd keep all of Bucky-related stuff. She hadn't gone into the room for a really long time, probably since a few weeks after the snap. Everyday she'd just send a Roomba into the room to clean the floors—and now being in the room, she noticed all the dust that had been compiling on the furniture. Although the floor was clean, the plastic-covered bed and the nightstand and the wardrobe were all covered in a rather thick layer of dust.

She stepped in hesitantly and tore down the curtains—they needed to be washed immediately. She opened the windows and the cold night air crept into the room, making her shiver. However, it felt fresher now. She scoffed silently when she remembered that Bucky disliked the cold from being frozen in the Hydra bases all the time, and she'd have to close the windows when night falls.

The girl then took off the plastic that was covering the double-sized bed. She vacuumed the bed first to make sure it was thoroughly clean before putting on the sheets. Again, she remembered how she just cried there for days when Bucky left, lying face down, cuddling the pillow that smelled like him.

She opened the tall wardrobe—it was empty, with some wooden hangers on the aluminum railing. Bucky had brought all of the clothes with him, leaving no trace of his being—just like what he wanted.

Then she remembered that he did leave a trace behind. Lily walked towards the small wooden nightstand and opened the top drawer. It was still there—Bucky's journal that Steve gave to her. Carefully, she opened the notebook and a piece of paper fell onto her lap. She picked it up and stared in disbelief, even though it was what she was looking for: the Polaroid picture that she took the day before Bucky left. Bucky was half-smiling in the picture, still with a frown on his face. She remembered how he wasn't ready for the picture and he thought he looked weird in it.

She smiled, even though her heart was aching. "I won't cry," she said, but her tears seemed to flow uncontrollably. It wasn't easy when she decided to accept the fact that Bucky was gone five years ago, but time managed to heal a small part of her wound. The road was somehow bumpy—every time she was depressed for thinking of him too much, she'd drink and drink and drink. Steve and Raj were the only ones who knew about the problem, but they couldn't do anything to get her out of it.

Hell, it had been nine years since she last saw Bucky. It was better when she knew Bucky was alive, but when Steve told her how he saw Bucky turning to dust; it became much harder to cope with. Other people could just call or visit each other in a long distance relationship, yet she couldn't do any of that. She wasn't even sure if it could be called a relationship. It was so goddamn hard—and she was devastated, frustrated. Why can't I have you? She kept asking over and over in her mind.

There were times when she'd just consider him dead forever—that way she could move on with her life. Yet every time she did that, it was like Steve had a magic radar and the man kept reminding her of the existence of a slight chance that they could bring him back. She wanted to surrender, to stop hoping—but she wasn't strong enough. So she held on that tiny piece of string for all these years.

"Damn it, Buck," she cried, still staring at that picture of the man she loved. When she closed her eyes, flashes of images were playing over and over again like a broken record—Bucky's smile, his soft brown hair, his sad blue eyes, how his metal fingers felt on her skin. She crawled onto the bed and cried into the pillow—praying to whatever is up there—begging to be able to see Bucky again. She loved him too much, and life just wasn't worth living without him there.

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