You slammed the door to room, pressing your back back against it. Your chest heaving as you sucked air in through ragged breaths, your biggest fear. Someone had seen you, and not only that but in your clumsiness you smacked the poor fool with your wing. You balled up your fists, pressing them to your eyes. Why couldn't you just be normal.
Bucky stood outside, slightly bewildered. He was rubbing his cheek from where you had smacked him. He looked back at the compound trying to wrap his mind around the incident. You had looked so frightened of him, maybe you knew who he was. That would make sense as to why you ran like you did, his heart sank, seemed like people would never get pass his past.
Bucky looked to the ground where you had been, a solitary white feather lay on the ground. He bent down, lifting it from its spot. It was so long, as long as his forearm and such a beautiful pure bright white. Simply the most amazing thing he had ever laid eyes on. He looked back at the compound.
Bucky didn't know who you were, or how you came to be. All he did know was he wanted, no, needed, to know more about you. Slowly he crossed the grass in the lone moonlight back to the building trying to find a way to talk to you.
You flopped down on your bed, pinching your right wing uncomfortably. You rolled to left, trying desperately to free in, as it have become tangled in the sheets. Frustrated you straighten it out sharply, with great force it shot out. You felt the tip of it before you realized what was happening. You hit the lamp on the bedside table, it tipped to the side before it crashed on the floor, leaving a shattered mess.
You took a deep breath, sighing loudly with annoyance. Stupid wing. You sat up and swung your feet off the bed, glaring at your extra appendage. Slowly tucking it in against your back, almost like it was acting like it didn't knock the lamp over.
You stood and walked out of your room, fling the door wide open. You stalked to the kitchen, going in search of a broom. You were beginning to get even more frustrated at the fact you couldn't find a broom to save your life. You checked the panty in the kitchen, the closet in the living room. In the process smacking an over heard light almost breaking that.
"Hey," A soft voice called from behind you, your eyes shot open as you spun around. He smiled weakly at you, shoving his hands in his pockets. His dark hair hung forward, strands catching in five o clock shadow. Bright blue eyes cast themselves to the floor.
"Hi." You replied tentatively, your body went ridged this was the first person you had talked to since arriving.
"You seem to be looking for something, did you need help?" He asked, slowly lifting his gaze. Your heart hammered as his eyes locked on yours.
"A broom would be good. I knocked the lamp over in my room, and kinda broke it." This time you were the one to look at the floor, you could feel your cheeks heat up.
"That's in the hangar." He replied with a chuckle. "Here I'll show you."
"Why on earth would someone put a broom in the hangar?" You asked, following behind him. Your eyes traveled over the muscles in his back through the shirt he wore.
"Tony puts things in weird spots, what can I say." He replied, pushing the glass door open. He walked across the cement, jets on either side of you.
"Well, I'm not putting it back. It's going in the kitchen panty were it should be." You stated, watching him from behind as the two of you walked. His cargo pants hung tight through his thighs, he stopped suddenly catching you off guard. You walked into the back the man before you could stop. You jumped back, flushing up squeaking out, "sorry."
"It's okay." He chuckled, looking over his shoulder as he opened the broom closet. "It's a lot to take in, the jets, especially if your not use to it. "
Yeah, the jets, you thought to yourself. I was definitely not checking your butt out. He turned, holding the broom up with smirk in his face. He handed it over to you.
"I'm Bucky by the way." He said, cocking his head a bit.
"Y/n." You replied, taking the broom. "Thanks."
"I don't think I've seen you before." He stated, looking at the wings behind you. Slowly you lowered them a bit trying to make them seem smaller then they were. His eyes returned to your face. "How long have you been here?"
"Couple of months." You told him, slowly turning suddenly you felt very self conscious.
"How come I've never seen you?" He continued as he followed you, you glanced over your shoulder, and was greeted by a wall of white from you wing. You lowered it again, seeing Bucky following you.
"Cause I don't want anyone to see me." You replied flatly making it back to the door that lead to the dorms.
"Why's that?" He asked, his face screwing up with confusion.
"Cause, I just don't want it." You rolled your eyes, speeding up your steps.
"But why?" He started when you cut him off as you neared your room. You slammed both wings out backwards, striking him in the chest, anger had gotten the better of you. You saw him sprawled out on the ground as you turned and entered your room slamming the door behind you.
YOU ARE READING
You're a freak, a man made freak. You became an experiment against your will, the result is the two enormous wings attached to your back. You hate them and what they stand for, bulky, awkward, and clumsy. They and the scars that litter your back are...