Start Again

Step 4

Trigger warning: talk and reactions related to PTSD, please take care. I love you.

<A/N> Guys this chapter is a little shorter but it took soooo long. I hope you like it and the next chapter I think is going to be a bit more fun. I like this one though. Let me know what you think!

❤️🤍💙

Getting back to the blank hallway you followed Bucky until he placed his right hand on the finger scanner and opened the door to room 46. Walking into the room you saw it looked practically identical to yours, same layout same furniture. But there weren't a lot of personal effects in the space and you figured that had a lot to do with him coming back only 17 months ago.

Scanning the living room you noticed there were a few loose articles of clothing hanging off the side of the couch, the lights were dimmed low and there were blankets and small bits of trash scattered over the living room. He shuffled over to the clothes trying to gather them without seeming frantic but you could see a bit of embarrassment on his face.  He grabbed the clothes on his way to his bedroom, a small attempt to clean up for his unexpected guest.

You walked into the living space feeling apprehensive, this was his space and the two of you didn't have a track record of keeping the peace. Not to mention there wasn't really much you knew about Bucky, other than what the public widely knows about Bucky Barnes you only knew that he was a huge asshole when he wanted to be and he was very nice to look at.

He disappeared for a moment and you caught yourself observing the space, trying to pick up any clues you could on the guy. There were a few pictures of him and Cap before either was super soldiers. A black and white picture of a woman with her hair curled and her lips painted darker than her skin, probably red. You started wondering who she was before you heard the sounds of him walking back into the room, he looked at you looking at his photos and you could have sworn he rolled his eyes at you. It's not like you had been snooping he literally had them on display, but if there was one thing you knew about Bucky it was that he didn't need a reason to be salty. Well, not a good reason anyway.

You were beyond annoyed at this man, he was the worst kind of person. His mood was so hot and cold that you felt constantly walking on eggshells when you were around him. Never had you met someone who was so fucking clear about their hatred for you? He was so damn confusing. You held your arms awkwardly at your chest, it had become a little more obvious to you that you weren't wearing a bra, especially since you had been cold all day. You couldn't make eye contact, afraid that might piss him off somehow so you continued looking down at the floor.

"If you're tired you can uh- take the bed. I'm gonna sleep out here." He gestured to the couch in the living space, you looked over at him with regretful eyes.

You weren't sure how to go about this. Naturally, you wanted to fight him on it, that was the polite thing to do. That whole song and dance of "I couldn't possibly"

and then he says "no I insist"

and you say "I don't want to kick you out of your bed"

and then he says some bullshit that's not true like, "I sleep better on the couch" and you end up in the bed. But you weren't sure if that fight would fly with Soda Can Soldier.

For all, you knew your gallant attempt to insist on taking the couch was going to end with his yelling in your face and telling you that you were misbehaving or whatever the fuck his old man vocabulary would spit at you next. You thought on it for a moment keeping your gaze locked on the cheap college dorm-style couch thinking about how bad your fucking back was going to hurt if you decided to sleep there.