Chapter Six

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~Winters POV~

Love doesn't exist.

Love does exist.

Love exists for others.

Not me.

Then why... why does Amelie Parker exist?

She wasn't just Amelie Parker, soulmate to the Winter Soldier.

She was Amelie Parker, soulmate to... me.

A week. Seven days.

Seven days since she discovered who I was. Seven days since she didn't run away or turn her back. Seven days since she invited me into her home.

"Winter?" She whispered, shutting her bedroom door protectively behind her. She had a blanket draped over an outstretched arm, which she lifted to show a plate of chicken and vegetables.

"Thank you." I whispered back.

She settled on the bed beside me, and passed me the plate and cutlery. Her hands grazed mine, her fingers light and soft as she gently rubbed my arm, "You look tired."

I shook my head. It was the opposite. I needed to run, to fight, to exercise in any way. But I wasn't meant to exist to the general public, and the ones who knew of me wanted to kill me.

I began eating, and stifled a moan at the sauces and spices used on the meat and vegetables that created a taste I had never had before, but already wanted to eat again.

Amelie sighed, obviously disheartened by minimal speech, and carried on the one sided conversation. "Your clothes will be here today. Expected to be delivered by 8, so you'll have nice new clothes to wear tomorrow. And tonight, I ordered you some pyjamas too."

She trailed off, being alerted to her phone screen flashing on her lap. I felt my heart thud from the reminder of what she'd done for me earlier in the week. She dragged me to her bed, and made me sit beside her as she scrolled through pictures of clothes, asking for my opinions. My answers were limited, I wore functional clothes that I could fight and run easily in - style didn't matter to me, but Amelie was pleased with my answers.

I later discovered she'd bought them, with the savings she'd kept back from her work at the bar. I'd tried to tell her I didn't want them, her money was hers, but the words came out wrong and she looked close to crying.

The sight nearly killed me. 

So I apologised, and thanked her for her generosity. Since then she'd been keeping me updated on where in the country they were, before they could land on her doorstep.

"Are you coming to the bar with me tonight?"

I nodded again. She needn't have asked, it was obvious I would be going. She didn't like the fact I stood discreetly in the shadows, but I knew if I sat at the bar or on any chair for that matter, somebody would see me.

And the more people who saw me, saw Amelie.

"Well you need to put your bed away then. If Mum or Peter come in and see it up then they'll ask questions."

She stood up and opened her wardrobe, as I finished the plate of food. Her hands flicked through shirts she could wear, whilst I dismantled the camp-bed she'd dragged out for me, and slid it back under her bed.

I stayed staring at the wall as she slipped into a white buttoned shirt, and turned around as she began whispering. "Why can't you just sit in a booth? That way I can actually see you."

"You can see me anyway." I frowned, and walked past her short body to the window.

She dragged a small brush through her lashes, and sighed in the mirror before angling her head towards me. "I don't like sneaking around."

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