Revenge Turned Sweet

Chapter 42: Мудак

It's all exquisite. Aside from the compound, I don't think I've ever seen a bathroom this nice. My heels click against the floor as I walk over to the sinks, seeing they're marble with black faucets. The mirrors in front of me are oval-shaped and have dim lighting illuminating from behind them, giving the whole room a very scenic look. I adjust my hair, making sure there are no knots, and check my teeth for any lipstick that may have wandered there.

After finding my appearance satisfactory, I run my hands under cool water, trying to get my racing heart back under control. I need to get myself under control. It seems whenever anyone says anything about the future, my body goes into complete overdrive. Haven't I learned this lesson already? I take my hands away from the water and place them on the back of my neck, trying to remind myself that the present moments are all that I have.

There are no promises of future memories or moments and that should be beautiful. It should be freeing.

I groan and turn the water off. No, it's not freeing or beautiful. It's terrifying and horrible. Given my past, I may have difficulty listening to such words of 'comfort.' It's not a comfort knowing that any moment could be your last, any memory may be the last, anything might be your last action, breath, or word you may have in this world.

And, to be quite honest, that scares the living hell out of me. What's the word that I'm looking for? It seems to have gotten lost in the many thoughts circulating in my head, though they're all mine. Oblivion! I think that's it. Or something of the same.

I glare at my reflection and will myself to be comfortable, to be happy, to feel joy. Ten words cannot ruin a perfectly good night, and I won't allow it. I take a few calming breaths, feeling my heart jump and then calm in a rhythm I can find solace of comfort in. The feeling will pass, it will pass, and I will be okay.

Bucky will be okay.

I drag my eyes away from the mirror and stalk over to the door, forcing myself to swallow the anxiety and prove to myself that I can handle this. I can take meaningful words without feeling guilt. And I can order myself a damn drink that's not named after something I'd much rather leave in my past along with my other endeavors.

I can do this.

The slow music sways in my head as I round the bar, asking for a raspberry martini, hoping it'll ease the discomfort flowing through me. No matter how much of an unhealthy coping mechanism it may be, it'll work for one night. The bartender slides my drink across the oak, and I eye it suspiciously for a moment. The dark red catches my attention, causing almost a trance.

"Raspberry martini, right?" The bartender asks with a polite smile etched onto his face.

I clear my throat and bring the glass closer to me. "Yes, thank you," I mutter through my embarrassment. The mirror behind the bar catches my attention. No one seems to be looking at me, so I take a slight risk.

"She looks familiar," his thoughts echo in my head as he wipes down a clean glass. "Might have something to do with the Avengers..." I squeeze my eyes shut, cutting his thoughts off from my wandering mind.

I glance back into the mirror, not seeing Bucky at our table, and huff out a breath. I climb onto the barstool and bring the drink to my lips. Savoring the sweet taste and the burn on the way down, simultaneously patting myself on the back for my drink choice. My mind wanders to where Bucky may have gone.

He had told me he'd be here when I got back. I take another sip of my drink when my heart begins to race, starting to think something may have happened to him. I run through all possible scenarios in my mind, thinking of any possible way any member from HYDRA could have found us. Or someone worse.