Possessed - Bucky Barnes x OC

Part 57

TW: Alcoholism

Launching up from his desk, inked hands scrambling the the garbage bin, James puked his guts up for the second time since getting to work.

He hadn't even been there more than thirty minutes.

Rolling out of bed at two in the afternoon, he rushed to his building simply for one important meeting, then planned to head home early.

Getting rip-roaring drunk the night before, like he had every other night since being released from prison. He singlehandedly downed two bottles of vodka— his least favorite kind of liquor, but it was all he had left at his bar, having drunk his way through his reserve. Two entire bottle of Absolut Crystal gone in a single sitting.

It was all he could do to quiet his thoughts. Not only was he feeling completely shattered by the breakup, the whole situation made some of his darker inclinations creep up on him.

James had an unusual bout of bloodlust coursing through him. Not that it was that rare, but it felt different since what happened at the engagement party. It felt more urgent. Desperately wanting to go out and find some unsuspecting pedestrian and drag them into dim alleyway. Having his way with them.

All this to say, the alcohol was needed. Albeit it wasn't the greatest coping mechanism, it was the only thing keeping him from going truly mad. It was the only way to ensure he would pass out at home and not go galavanting in the streets, killing everyone on sight. A way to maim himself into staying home. Thwarting his homicidal abilities.

He took a sip from the room temp glass of water on his desk, trying to wash out the taste of stomach bile on his tongue. Pulling out a mint from his side drawer.

There was a loud knock on his door—er, a normal one, but to his sensitive ears it was booming. It made him wince, clearing his throat to let out a raspy, "come in", hoping they wouldn't try to knock again.

Steve stepped inside the oversized office holding a paper bag, narrowing his eyes to see through the darkness. Looking over to James sitting practically limp behind his desk. "Jeez, Buck. Open some blinds would ya? I can hardly see."

He strode across the room, tugging on the strings to lift the blinds over his wall of windows.

James retched at the light, almost reaching back for his bin before swallowing down the nausea in his core. Instead sucking over the mint in his mouth, letting it soothe his stomach.

Steve stood stationed, looking over him with judgmental eyes. "You're a fucking mess."

"Yeah, no shit, punk." He spat right back, voice not carrying like he wanted. Conveying nothing, but sickened despair.

Steve walked over, setting the brown bag down on his desk. "I got you food, if you want to eat."

"I don't think my stomach wants anything in it at the moment."

"You sure you can make it to this meeting then? I can just take care of it if you want to go home."

James shook his head, taking a small sip of his water. Focusing hard to keep it down. "I just got here and I need to at least listen in on the offer. I've been gone too much recently. There's a lot going on that I don't have my hands in and you know how I feel about that."

Steve nodded his head, more than aware of James' major control issues when it came to his company. "Well, just try not to puke during it. I think that might scare off some of our clients." He smirked, making James roll his eyes. "Speaking of, you might want to dump out your bin and light a candle. It smells disgusting in here."