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Bucky stared down at the work he had been assigned by his maths teacher, pencil between his fingers and his eyes narrowed in concentration. He knew exactly what he were to do, but his mind kept drifting elsewhere. To Steve.

Steve who was bloody smoking hot, caring and loved his family.

Steve who was dirty blonde haired and Prince Charming blue eyed.

Steve who had seen him crying more then once and didn't freak out. Steve who always asked if he was okay. Steve who seemed worried about him.

Steve.

Steve. Steve. Steve.

This is stupid. Bucky thought to himself. He had work to do. But his mind kept going back to the gorgeous man who didn't judge Bucky. The man who wanted to help.

"What're you up to, Buck?" Natasha asked, cutting him from his thoughts and causing him to jump.

"Jesus Nat, don't do that." He hissed, dropping his pencil. "Nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Natasha chuckled, taking a seat opposite her friend and sighed. "I didn't see you this morning. How come?"

"Oh.. I had to go straight to the library. I'm just meant to stay in here and do work until I get picked up."

"Right... are you okay?" She asked, placing her hand gently over Bucky's. He had a feeling he knew where this was going and would most likely end in him slapping the life out of T'Challa. "T'Challa was telling me some things about what happened in the weekend... said you fainted and had a small breakdown and ended up cutting yourself.. is that... is that true?"

Yup. He was definitely going on a slapping spree. "Well... I didn't cut myself.. I scratched myself.. on accident. And yeah, I did faint and have a breakdown but I'm fine. It happens some times, I know how to deal with it." Bucky muttered, feeling defensive. Why couldn't anyone get that he was fine?

"But you're not fine, Bucky." Natasha said softly, "and I don't understand how you do it.."

"Do what?"

"Pretend that you're okay. Shut us out. Shut me out.."

"I'm not pretending."

"Yes you are." She pushed. She was angry. Really angry. She didn't understand why Bucky shut her out, why he pretended that he was okay and got defensive whenever anyone told him different. Natasha knew for a fact that Bucky wasn't okay. That he needed to just say what he felt. It would be so much easier for her. "And it's getting on my nerves. I want to help. But you never seem to call or text when you're in a bad headspace. You isolate yourself. You hide from us. And you pretend and force yourself to smile and laugh. But I can see right through your little act, James. I know you."

Bucky's heart lurched into the back of his throat. He felt so vulnerable, scared. Natasha was spitting the unholy truth at him and it made him feel sick. Made him want to run out of the library and never look back. "I'm not acting, Natasha." Bucky growled, ripping his hand away and slamming his maths book shut. "I was actually feeling pretty good today. But thank you oh so very much for ruining it."

"Don't you dare blame your foul mood on me! You're not okay! This isn't okay-

"No. You know what's not okay? Leaving me to stress and worry over your boy problems all weekend and wait for some call or text to say that everything was alright, yet I never fucking got anything! I found out from T'Challa that everything was sorted and not to worry anymore. And what also isn't okay, is you storming in here and telling me how I feel when you haven't spent even a second thinking about how I really am. I'm not bad every single fucking day! I don't breakdown every day, Nat. I can also have good days. So could you please just fucking drop it?!"

Hidden Love ~ Stucky Where stories live. Discover now