I Promise.

Bucky Barnes is addictive.

Chapter 3
10/31/2001
I really try to keep up with this thing, but it's really hard. I like to use it to write, but then again I get all caught up drawing in it. My latest drawing was a picture of my friends at Halloween. Every year on Halloween (which hello is today), Sam wears a bird suit. We aren't really sure why, but he loves that thing. In fact, he wore it tonight at Pepper's annual Halloween party. It wasn't really a costume party, but Sam took it upon himself to wear the bird costume. However, Natasha was sporting a skin tight, black cat suit. I'm not sure how she wasn't uncomfortable.
It just looks hard to sit and breathe in
Nearly everyone was staring at her ass
The latex could strangle a man
I asked her how she felt in it, and she said she was insanely comfortable. The combat boots were really cool, but other than that it looked terrifyingly uncomfortable. However, it did win over a dance with Clint. They aren't dating, but they sure did look like they were having a damn good time. Oh! And I can't forget Tony, who came in a fucking pumpkin suit. I'm still dumbfounded by the fact that he stayed in it all night. He said that Thor and Bruce had to help him get into it. Bucky was just wearing a shirt with a ghost on it, and I was just wearing the clothes I went to school in. Wanda asked me what I was dressed in and I said
"I high schooler from Brooklyn."
It earned a few laughs and Pietro said it was "very original."  It seems as though a lot of people came to the party dressed as high schoolers from Brooklyn. However, I think the best part of the party was seeing how happy everyone was. Rhodey and Pepper were handing out candy to the kids, and Tony was scaring them off in his terrifying pumpkin suit. Bruce and Thor still say how disgusted they were to see Tony in just his underwear. They said it was a very liberating experience. I was actually able to draw a lot from that night. Tony in his pumpkin suit, Clint and Nat dancing together, Rhodey and Pepper smiling while handing out the candy, and Bucky smiling on the dance floor. He would occasionally have a dance partner, but he looked happiest dancing by himself. He kept trying to lure me onto the dance floor, but I've never danced. I would just step on his toes. He did, however, make me promise him that I'll dance with him before he dies. I really didn't want to make that promise, but I feel like I owe it to him. He's done a lot for me.
I stopped my writing for a moment. I heard Bucky flip around from his side of the bed and grab his Motorola. I then got a text message from yours truly.
[Bucky 2:36 AM] go. to. sleep.
  "You literally could've just fucking flipped over and told me that." I snapped.
  "Too much work." He responded.
  "That literally took more work."
  "Turn the fucking lamp off and go the fuck to sleep."
  "Whatever."
  There was a pause for about two minutes as I was getting settled into my bed. Bucky then broke the deafening silence.
  "Hey." He whispered.
  "What?" I asked.
  "Goodnight, Punk."
  "Night, Jerk."

                      11/03/2001
Man, sometimes it's really hard keeping up with this thing. I guess I'll just write in it  when something good or bad happens? Today was definitely good. Nothing particularly shocking happened. It really just consisted of Sam coming over, and Bucky, Sam, and I chilling out in our room. It's been a couple of weeks since the feelings have arrived. I keep trying to push it off, but they keep getting stronger. It's like I can't take my eyes off of Bucky. Sam has definitely noticed something is up. He would always tap me on the back when I would be staring for too long. Everyone needs a Sam Wilson type of wingman. I plan on explaining it to him sometime this week. He will probably hate me for the rest of eternity, but sometimes that's okay. I'm actually surprised. I'm writing this entry fairly early. It's only 5:43 PM. Normally I would wait till Buck was asleep to start writing, but he went to the store with his mom. Right now would actually be a great time to call Sam and talk to him about it. Maybe I should get on that?
I grab my phone off my nightstand.
  "You can do this Steve." I say to myself. It made it seem like I was telling Bucky my feelings and not Sam.
  "You're just trying to explain your feelings to a trustworthy friend. You've got this." I repeat to myself. I type in his number and it pulls up his contact. I could do this. I'm going to call him. Before I can second guess this decision, I press the call button.
[Call beginning with Falcon: 5:48 PM]
"What's up? Everything okay?" Sam asked me. He actually sounded concerned. I never spontaneously call Sam. If I ever have to call him, I text him then call. He hates phone calls.
  "I really need a friend right now. I just. Need to talk it out." I mumbled.
  "Did you and Buck get into an argument or something?" Sam asked.
   "No it's just. Insanely complicated. Can I rant?"
  "Always."
[Call ended with Falcon: 6:29 PM]
I explained it all. The feelings. The everything. I explained it all to Sam. He said he wouldn't think about me any differently, and that he totally knew I was into Bucky. This is one of the first times I'm actually thinking in my head and not writing down in my journal. I just really don't have the words. I vowed to never tell Bucky. I can't ruin our friendship. Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky. I don't want to ruin anything. Even at the thought of this I started crying. I'm sitting on my bed. Just crying. Sobbing. The tears won't stop anymore. I don't want to lose Bucky. I can't lose Bucky. I want to make these feelings stop, but they won't end. All I can think about lately was when I had the asthma attack, and he held me tight. He thought he was going to lose me. He held me like he's never held me before. He slept in my bed that night. We both fell asleep together. It was insane. I knew he probably didn't mean anything by it, but it meant everything to me. He means everything to me. It hurts. It hurts knowing that there's no fucking chance. The girls love Bucky. Bucky loves the girls. I'm a scrawny, 5'4, 95 pound, asthmatic kid from Brooklyn. He wouldn't love me. He wouldn't care. It hurts. It hurts so bad. But I can't stop. I take out my journal and write down one thing on the picture of Bucky sleeping that I drew.
      "Bucky Barnes is addictive."
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