[𝟭.𝟭] 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 ➣ {𝕛•𝕓•𝕓} ❘ [𝖙𝖋𝖆𝖙𝖜𝖘 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 ]

↳ 𝟮𝟳 : ❝ [𝗥𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘀] ¡! ❞

 ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Aʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴀ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ ࿐ྂ

TW: ANXIETY ATTACK, SUICIDAL IDEATION, RELAPSING.

📍MANHATTAN

◌୭˚➶. ˚✧˖°

It had been a week ever since Y/N returned to her apartment in Manhattan. Bucky and Y/N had decided to take their relationship at a slow pace, given that both of them had their demons to deal with and were there for each other whenever needed. The two often stayed over at each other's places and on one of that days, Bucky made sure to get rid of all of Y/N's alcoholic drinks.

Bucky had made Y/N promise and reach out to him whenever she had the urge to harm herself, and not proceed with it.

Currently, Y/N was driving back to her apartment, late at night, after going through a few formalities of signing papers and obtaining Zemo's jet from his possessions through his lawyers, given that he was stationed in the Raft under high security.

In seven days, she had tried to quit the habit of consuming alcohol and refrain from self-harming. Now she was a week sober. Her body was slowly starting to react to the lack of it; making her go through random mood swings and bouts of emotional fluctuations.

After forward a few scans that she had found to Toress and Sam, Y/N pulled up her car in her parking spot and stared at the glass door of her apartment building, zoning out.

She frowned when a reflection of a restaurant and turned in her seat to have a better look. Her heart dropped to her stomach, realizing that it was the place she used to go with Natasha during the Blip, a meet-up point even, to catch up whenever they had drifted apart in that particular span of five years.

Y/N felt bile rise to the back of her throat at the memory. Her stomach churned sickeningly as anxiety slowly started to set in. She noticed the way her nails dug into the leather covering of her steering wheels and her irregular breathing patterns only began to grow alarmingly.

Feeling the dire need to get out of the small space of her car, Y/N was quick to get out of her car and shut the door behind her, resting her palms on her knees and staring at the mortar road below her feet.

When old memories came back to her mind, she would usually push it away with a bottle or two of liquor; how much ever it took to balance the pain out.

Pulling her jacket closer to her body, Y/N managed to keep her breathing in check with a lot of difficulty. This wasn't like most of her severe anxiety attacks. This one was quick, but nerve-wracking, nonetheless, which made her think that she might be facing another one not too delayed.