Misfortune (Bucky Barnes)

5• Strike a Deal

' What's left here for us?
Share your dreams, friend,
Because all of mine are lost.
And was our time here spent in vain?
With overdrawn ideas
And forgotten names. '
-Luca Fogale, "Shelter, Continued"
~

When I wake up, the night is a mystery. A mystery that somehow resulted in giving me one clue. Bucky. I don't remember how or why I got the name but staring at the man in front of me I know it's his.

His mind seems awfully occupied this morning as he walks around the house. I stay sitting on the mattress twirling my dagger between my fingers. How would I ever get this man to talk?

"Have you always lived here?" I ask suddenly, hoping to reveal anything about his life.

"No."

"Where have you lived?"

"Lots of places."

I could hardly contain my disappointed sigh. He wasn't gonna give in that easily. This would take work.

"Where did you go last night?"

"Out."

He would hardly look me in the eyes. The man seemed so panicked. I put the dagger away hoping that it would somehow ease him.

"Look, we are gonna have to talk eventually."

He shook his head gripping the counter until his knuckles turned white.

"Why do you assume that?"

Holy hell.

"Aren't you curious how I got here? You want to know who I am?"

I stand taking my sweet time to approach him. He's as still as a statue as I hover a foot away from him. He's much taller than I expected, and by the looks of it much stronger. But I don't let appearances turn me away.

"Because I happen to be very curious about you," I say my voice as sweet as honey.

He looks to the ceiling now as if praying to some god that I would go away.

"That's not a road you want to go down."

He swallows nervously his adam's apple bobbing in the process. I'd have to run my finger tip along his neck in order to feel something. It's the only skin that goes uncovered. And I don't know enough about this ghost to see where that leads me. Instead I take a step back.

"Would you like to strike a deal then?"

He hesitates but I watch his grip tightened on the counter. I seem to be testing his patience. He shakes his head to confirm that making a deal with me is the last thing he wants to do.

I shrug smiling slightly, "maybe not now but I assure you, you'll be taking me up on that offer."

I finally draw away from him watching his hands go slack in the process. Smirking I steal his keys off the table.

"I feel bad for bleeding on all your shit so I'm going to grab a few things."

Bucky moves away from his spot to stand in front of the door. For a moment I'm thrown off.

"Theo," he says calmly.

My eyes are definitely wide now, this man has hardly spoken two words let alone addressed me. I don't regret giving him my name because the way he says it brings warmth to my body. It's been years since someone called me that. I shake the thoughts from my head returning to look at him with a stern glare.

"You were hysterically feverish yesterday."

I practically laugh in his face.

"So?"

He doesn't say anything just continues to look down at me as if I'll eventually give it up and turn away from the door.

I cross my arms at him, "you seem terribly worried about me ghost."

He crinkles his eyes at me the solemn blue becoming slits.

"What? You're living like one. Now move aside you need clean sheets."

He finally steps away without another word. I take a moment to look at him. I mean really look at him. With arms like that there's no way he's an average man. He has a scar on his face and such a cynical demeanor. Maybe he has PTSD or maybe he's just cautious. Regardless, he has me wondering where actually he came from. I wish I could read him, but I can't. Not here, not now. Instead I turn toward the door.

"Don't worry, I won't be long."

I look to him hoping for some sort of response. He gives me a nod in acknowledgement. He is met with my warm smile as I shut the door behind me.