Ascendancy

Chapter 16

        "Twenty five," Wanda whispers.

        Bucky doesn't respond. He looks up to the next landings. That must have been where he... Did it.

        White shakes near me, and I realize I've been clenching the flowers in a shaking hand. The ends are brown now. I pass them to Bucky without a word, although he catches my eyes. His face is tender.

         It disarms me. I was supposed to be comforting him.

        Bucky gently lays the flowers on the spirit marker. He gently presses a hand onto it, looks around again, then stands. When Bucky turns back, the glass has been flipped; Bucky immediately hugs me, while I stand there shaking. My reflection is clear in his gaze.

         We leave. Before I can process anything, I'm seated behind a table, a napkin on my lap, and the scene ever changing before me as the sun sets once more. This time a city encloses us, traps us in the traffic of reality that is dressed like a dream. I look down only when the smell something sweet. Dessert. Dessert already.

          I look at Bucky questionably. He is staring right back at me, his eyebrows raised. Suddenly I realize what I'm eating, and the sweet shocks me, twisting my taste buds around. I begin gulfing it down.

        Wanda looks up from where she is eating her's delicately, and shares a look with Bucky. I pretend I don't see it.

        The waiter comes up, and he asks in French, "Avez-vous terminé vos repas?"

        "Oui merci," Bucky responds. I snort under my breath.

         Of course he knows French. Then another wave of shakes overcome me and I can't lift my fork. There is a reason why he had to learn this language.

         Bucky pulls out my chair for me, and we go down the poignant elevator in silence. I'm almost surprised when a rush of air does not flow out when the door opens; a release of pressure from all the tension.

         Bumps raise on my arm, and it's only then that I realize it's cold. Bucky drapes his blazer over me, leaving on his fancy shirt. Wanda looks back, and then she nods at Bucky, who also must have nodded.

        "Where is she going?" I ask.

        "There's a bookstore near here she wants to look in. She'll be fine."

         The pavement is like a puzzle before us. A warm light draws us near a small band playing music. Bucky loops an arm around my waist delicately, and pulls me in with the other couples dancing.

        The music chills in the air, and condenses, falling around us. I fold my head onto Bucky's chest. His heart pulses steadily.

        "What is it, Ella?" Bucky asks softly.

        I sigh into his chest. This is so ridiculous. "I'm sorry, it's-"

        "Don't apologize. You don't need to do that for me."

        I look up. "I just feel like there is more we need to do, more we can give." Bucky understands who I'm talking about. Francis Smith. "And.. I mean this is just an awful thought..."

        "Just say it," Bucky says softly into my ear. My stomach hovers, dissolving into butterflies whose flaps dance and tickle like feathers.

        "I feel like I'm being selfish," My breath hushes the music, it boils, evaporating again so that I can't hear it. "Like, I'm taking all your energy and time, your... your... Healing that should come from this! You didn't look sad up there, and I'm not saying you should, but," My voice is becoming rushed, the music scatterers more. Bits of it must have scattered to the plaza at this point.