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S U C K
FOR ONCE, CELIA felt protected by the dark. The black sheet was like a mask over her critical condition. Her white work-out shirt was coated in deep red spots. Most of her body was visible, but thankfully not all. Her heart beat thumped against her chest, it knew that his reaction wouldn't be a pleasant sound. She sucked in a breath to his previous words. "Where's your jacket? You must be freezing," he ran his hands up and down her frosty bare arms. Goosebumps made themselves a home. The raw, February night did not support her current situation. He cared so much he could cry. "Who did this to you?"
"Bucky. . . maybe we should take this inside." her grip on the suitcase strengthened, and her palm became a ghostly white. His icy blue eyes melted against her warm chocolate ones; they made her colder than the brisk winds that pinched her cherry lips in a forced kiss. The irritability in his face did not slacken, his clenched jaw remained stiff. Bucky shrugged his head towards the interior of the apartment and adjusted the door left ajar so that it was more inviting.
Celia sat down on the edge of the barcalounger, with the suitcase by her side on the dusty wooden floor. She twiddled her frosted, pink thumbs to keep her restless body active. Her whole body shot up in surprise when the volume of his voice increased, "You sneak out after dinner, scare the crap out of Steve and I, and come back like this! No coat, barely even a shirt, and a suitcase." He massaged his temples with his thumbs, overcome with agitation. "You have to tell me what's going on, Lia. And you have to tell me now."
She knew that that tone of voice wasn't the extent of it, and he was going to get much more infuriated. The look of ecstasy on her face after she won the brawl dissolved when she imagined his choleric expression. The effect he had on her was spine-chilling, the fearful excitement he provided made her insides feel warm and fuzzy. It took a moment for her to procure enough courage to confront the subject. Bucky entered the kitchen and reached up towards the cabinet, rummaging for something frantically. "I ..." she picked up the suitcase and snapped it open. "I won."
He couldn't help himself; he paused in his desperate attempts to locate an item on the shelf to stare at her. "What the fuck does that mean?" he demanded, and she flinched to his harsh words. The next sentence slowly formed in her mouth, as if she had never spoken these words before. As if, maybe, saying them could severely harm the person on the receiving end. The state she said them in wasn't a helpful factor either; she was shivering from the swirling snow and her body was sore. "Look at me, and tell me what it means."
Her eyes took their time, examining the rest of the room with diligence. It didn't require the effort, but Celia put it in to avoid those sensational orbs. When they were mad and dark, they were hot. When they were bright and happy, they were gorgeous. And when they were loving, they were the most outstanding sight a human could see. She could stare at them all day, but she had her reasons for not gawking at the current moment. "I-it means. . ." she tripped over her own words.
