marvel • bucky barnes

225 4 3
                                    

You Left Me

I stare blankly at the photograph I had placed on the table next to the large bottle of alcohol I had already drunken half of. The silence was terrible as I sat there, but a subtle knock broke it.

I look up, my eyes glossed over. "Hey," Steve begins to step into the room. "How—"

"Don't ask how I am." I shake my head. "Just leave, please." I turn away from him and back to the picture.

"Y/N, you shouldn't be alone right now."

"I shouldn't be a lot of things, but I am. I love you, Steve, I really do, but I just need to be alone right now." My voice cracks and slurs, making me clear my throat.

Steve looks to the floor, nodding. "Okay." His agreement is quiet as he steps away and closes the door behind him.

As soon as I hear his footsteps fade away and I know that I'm truly alone, that's when I break down. Tears blind my vision and the alcohol doesn't make it better.

I stand up, looking to that picture of him, of Bucky.

"Why did you do it?" My words are small, even though I know he won't answer. "We—We could've left before they drafted you! God, we had so many plans and because your such a wonderful person you had to stay because it was 'the right thing to do'. Yeah? Well, screw the right thing to do!" I run a hand through my hair as I reach for the bottle and press it to my lips again.

"We had a future! And you promised you'd always be there! You promised you wouldn't leave." The salty tears flood down my reddened cheeks as I shout.

"You couldn't have been selfish for once in your damn life, could you Bucky?" The words are shaky as they leave my mouth. "You could've still been here . . ."

Sobs wrack my body as my hands press against my head, the sloshing of the alcohol in the bottle invading my ears. I back myself up to the wall, sliding down it. "How am I supposed to live without you?!" I throw the bottle at the picture, but miss, making it shatter against the opposite wall and the liquid to spill everywhere.

I wrap my arms around myself, rocking back and forth as I place my head on my knees. "Please . . . please just come back to me. I need you."

I hated how he always wanted to do the right thing, how he was always so righteous and wanted to do what was best for the greater good, that was why he wasn't here anymore. I hated it because of how much it made me love him, because loving him was the reason I was on the floor crying over him. If I didn't love Bucky, I wouldn't be going through all of this pain that I didn't even know he was capable of causing me.

But most of all, I hated the fact that I would be willing to go through all of this pain again if it meant I'd be able to see him; to see him smile and hear his laugh, to listen to his ridiculously corny pickup lines and stupid jokes.

I sniffle, bringing my hands up to wipe off my cheeks as I slowly stand up.

God, how was I going to get through this?

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