Possessed - Bucky Barnes x OC

Part 23

For once, Maggie didn't wake up crying.

She had a weak surge of energy coursing through her, so planned to spend her day off painting, trying out a new technique with oil paints. Music blasted through her art room, droning out the occasional unwanted thoughts she was still being nagged by. Mashing the creamy colors onto the canvas in thick globs, giving it texture.

The more she painted, the more her art started to look like it was for James. She kept ending up mixing the exact shade of blue she so often thought of. His blue.

When she pushed aside every last tube of cerulean, navy, and aqua, sure enough— her hands went straight for the obsidian.

She threw down her pallet, letting out a frustrated groan. "Get it together, Mags." She muttered to herself, wiping her clammy, paint covered palms down the sides of her overalls.

Figuring that was enough painting for the day, she walked to her bathroom to take a long shower. Trying to wash away her heartache with scorching hot water. She felt tears pricking her eyes as the silence soaked in. Falling down to her knees, she let her head slump down, squeezing her eyes shut.

Tears mixed with the water dripping from her hair, helping her pretend that they weren't real. That she wasn't crying. That she was fine.

Staying just like that until her fingers were pruney.

She got dressed for the day, slipping on a cardigan over a tank with a pair of jeans. Forcing herself to enter the world. She hiked down to the subway. Dissociating as her body rocked and swayed with the car's movements. There was a baby screaming loudly beside her, but she didn't even register the deafening sound. Too far gone in her hazed feeling of heartbreak.

As the car came to a halting stop, she stood from her seat and made her way back up to the surface of the city. Not even thinking twice about her movements, just going through the motions.

The only thing that could break through Maggie's blank stare was the sound of a sports car racing by. She nearly broke her neck, turning to see if it was James. It wasn't. She acted like she was relieved, but deep down— she wished it was him.

She walked through Central Park, hoping the fresh air would help clear her head. The paths were filled with joggers and people out sightseeing. A bit more crowded than she thought it would be for a week day, but it was still nice. She already felt a bit better, being out of her apartment.

Finding an open bench in a spot of shade from the towering tree beside it, she settled down. Crossing her legs and resting back, she took a deep breath. Her eyes wandered. Watching couples stroll past her, all loved up. Feeling a bite of jealousy.

Tears pooled low in her eyes. She sniffled, wiping her nose with the hem of her sleeve.

"You're fine, Mags." She whispered to herself. Peeking over her shoulder to make sure no one heard her talking to herself, doing a double take at what— er, who she saw.

James.

He was marching straight towards her, taking his time. He wore a snug black t-shirt with a pair of dark wash denim jeans.

Her eyes widened, brows pinching together in fear. She stood from her spot, stumbling slightly over her feet, trying to scurry away.

"Margaret." He barked.

She froze. She didn't know why, but she did. It was like his voice had her bound to the spot, wrapping her in invisible chains. Unable to break free.

Turning around, she found him standing right behind her, wearing an unreadable expression. His eyes were empty. Dark circles around them. Dead.