Йой! Нажаль, це зображення не відповідає нашим правилам. Щоб продовжити публікацію, будь ласка, видаліть його або завантажте інше.
He was something alright. James B. Barnes, was something.
It hadn't even been a week since her new neighbor moved in and her door had been vandalized with about three handwritten notes. All of them complaining about how loud her music was.
Йой! Нажаль, це зображення не відповідає нашим правилам. Щоб продовжити публікацію, будь ласка, видаліть його або завантажте інше.
That was a nicer one
Blue had started to wonder if this guy hated how loud her music was or he just hated music in general. Maybe he was psychotic, or a serial killer. There was something off about him Blue could just feel it.
Paramore played as Blue did some light reading on the tiny balcony she had. It had enough space for two plants and a tiny outdoor table that she found at a local goodwill.
Rose-Colored Boy was playing, it was one of her favorite songs by the band and always made her want to move around. She hesitantly put the volume up so she could hear it better outside. She didn't feel as bad for the loud music, her neighbor wasn't home.
She noticed that twice a week he would leave his house at exactly 10 o'clock, ten minutes before she left for work. Other than that she hardly ever saw him actually leave his apartment.
Maybe he was scared of the world, the blip had that effect on people. He might have been one of the ones that just dusted into thin air.
The book was boring her and her stomach rumbled as her Saturday playlist came to an end. It was finally something different, she had spent her whole week playing her Papa's playlist. It would be four years the upcoming Monday since he had passed. She missed him so much.
Blue turned off her speaker as she grabbed her bag and headphones, placing them gently on top of her head making sure not to mess up the perfect dutch braids she had done on her very short hair.
Her finger hovered over the playlist that she had worn out the whole week, A Sunny Day with Papa. She shook her head pressing play on something that would distract her.
She shook her head along to the beat, nothing a little Soft Cell couldn't fix.
As she opened her door to exit her door, it seemed her neighbor was doing the same thing.
Blue gave him a small smile trying to be polite to the neighbor who had been sending her little love notes with warnings written in them.
She turned towards the exit of her building, ready to walk to her favorite dumpling shop.
A tap was felt on her shoulder making her turn around, taking off her headphones. Bucky was in the middle of saying something.
"Huh?" Blue asked, confused.
"I was just asking if you ever got my notes that I left on your door?" He stood still.
Blue nodded, "Yeah, all three of them."
"Great, so you just didn't want to lower your music. Don't your parents or something get annoyed at the constant loudness?" He asked, looking a little bit fed up.
"Maybe I keep my music loud because you scream loud, like every night. I know guys have needs and what not but we don't all gotta hear it." Blue explained, even though that wasn't the reason for the loud music. "And by the way, there are no old people that live here, just me."
"Why would you tell me you live alone? I could be a murderer!" Bucky exclaimed, trying to ignore the comment about his screams.
Blue laughed, "Yeah you could be a murderer and I could be Captain America."
The sentence actually made Bucky crack a smile, "Doubt it you're too rude, but you got the music taste for it."
"Did you just basically call Captain America a grandpa? Which I guess he technically is since TMZ caught his geriatric ass in 4k." Blue couldn't stop laughing.
"TMZ?" Bucky responded confused.
Blue nodded, "Exactly what I said, I thought we would find out through an Ellen appearance or something."
Bucky was really confused about everything that was coming out of Blue's mouth.
"Anyways, sorry for the loud music I guess that's just really how I enjoy it. You don't like music?" Blue asked.
Bucky shook his head, "I do. Trust me I do, but at an appropriate volume and time of day. Thought someone with dementia lived next door to me, and they thought it was the 40's again."
Blue giggled. "That's funny, but no it's just me. Kinda surprised you didn't realize that little earlier. Pretty not a lot of old people blast Bowie at 1 in the morning."
Bucky raised up his shoulders, "Like I said, it was the playing of 40's music all week that had me thinking I moved in next to a World War II veteran."
"Nope just me, I'm Blue by the way." She reached out her hand.
Bucky brought his hand towards her slowly, gently shaking it. "Bucky."
"Leather gloves? I'm starting to rethink the idea of you being a murderer." Blue tilted her head, looking at gloves he wore.
"I have poor blood circulation, they keep me warm." Bucky explained.
"Hmm, maybe I should get some for my feet, they're always freezing." Blue giggled.
Bucky laughed along, "A little sweaty but they get the job done."
Blue looked at the sun going down. "It was nice meeting you James B. Barnes, I'll take your letters under consideration."
"Nice meeting you too Blue." Bucky smiled as he watched her turn the corner.
Maybe having a neighbor wouldn't be too bad, Blue thought as she smiled placing her headphones back on her head.
