• If I could turn back time •

8. A Beautiful Disaster

"This was the boy I loved. A little bit messy. A little bit ruined. A beautiful disaster. Just like me."
———

I woke up to find a note stuck to my bionic arm by a magnet. I blinked drowsily a few times before pulling it off. Sleeping on the couch for a week wasn't too bad, Steve didn't have a spare bed and I didn't want to take his from him. After I actually woke up a bit more, I sat up and read the note.

'Hey Buck, I have to go do stuff today. I won't be back until 3, maybe later. There's food in the fridge and you can watch TV if you want to. If someone comes to the door, you don't have to answer it. See you when I get back! Don't forget to think positively!

Love, Steve :)'

I smiled at the last part, folding the note and setting it on the table. I yawned and stretched my arms before getting up from the couch to go make myself breakfast. Steve had made pancakes the other day, so there should still be some leftover in the fridge. I warmed them up in the microwave and poured some syrup over them, getting the utensils I needed as well. I set everything on the table in the living room and went back into the kitchen for a glass of milk.

Once I was all settled with my breakfast, I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. I flipped through the channels until I found a baking show that seemed pretty interesting. I watched it while I stuffed my face with pancakes, careful not to get syrup on Steve's couch.

Two hours passed. I had finished my breakfast, watched the entirety of the baking show, and washed my dishes. Now I didn't know what to do.

I wandered around the apartment for a bit, looking at pictures on the wall. I eventually found myself in Steve's bedroom, the one place I hadn't thoroughly explored. Now, I wasn't a nosy person, but curiosity usually got the best of me. I snooped around in his room for a bit, finding nothing of interest besides a crumpled newspaper. I sat down on his bed and started reading it, my eyes scanning over the faded words like a well-oiled machine. The headline on the front page immediately caught my eye.

'The Latest in Terrorism: Search for the dangerous "Winter Soldier" still ongoing'

My hands trembled as I read the name. 'Winter Soldier'. No. No, I wasn't him anymore. They didn't understand that I had no control over what I did in the past. That's why I was running from them. I balled my fist up in anger, but I did not damage the newspaper. It was Steve's. He kept it for a reason. I just put it back where I found it and stared at the wall, my head beginning to pound.

And then it got louder.

How could the pounding in my head possibly get louder without hurting me any further? It was then that I realized it was the door. Someone was pounding on Steve's door. I cautiously got up and crept to the doorway of Steve's bedroom, listening intently. I could hear someone saying something, but I couldn't make out what it was. Whoever it was, they sounded angry.

Quiet as a mouse, I slowly made my way over to the front door and pressed myself against a wall. The pounding continued for a moment, then stopped. I took the opportunity to look through the door's peephole to see who was there.

It was a man that I didn't recognize. He wore expensive looking sunglasses and his hair was overly slicked back with hair gel. His appearance basically screamed 'I'm rich, look at me!' since he was wearing a very nice suit. He looked put together, while I looked like I just crawled out of bed. I barely got another glance at him before he was pounding on the door again. This time, I could hear what he was saying.

"Steve! Steve, we have to talk! Don't you ignore me!" He growled, continuing to bang his fist on the door. Good thing Steve had actually locked it this time.

I frowned. Why did this man want to talk to Steve? Steve wasn't here and I wasn't about to just let this strange man into his apartment. I waited a minute or so before just going about my business. The pounding eventually stopped, which meant the man had given up and left. I really wanted to know why he was so angry with Steve.

———

I had fallen asleep on the couch again when Steve returned from whatever he was doing. The door clicked when it unlocked, which brought me out of my sleepy haze. I kept my eyes closed, however, in order to feign sleep since I wanted to see how Steve would react. I heard him walk into the kitchen and set something that sounded like a bag on the table.

After that, he was silent. I strained to listen, but I couldn't hear him moving around. Then, I heard his footsteps again. They were closer this time and coming towards me. I had to hold back a smile when I felt the soft surface of his lips on my cheek. I waited a second before fluttering my eyes open, pretending that I just woke up. "Hey, Steve..." I murmured, smiling as I looked up at him.

"Hey, Buck. Did you spend all day here?" Steve chuckled, sitting down next to me and pulling my head into his lap. He started running his fingers through my hair, a habit he picked up ever since I started putting my head in his lap when we were hanging out. He liked it when I did the same to him.

I just shrugged. "Pretty much... After breakfast, I watched some TV. I didn't really do much today." I replied, yawning afterwards and stretching my arms. Then I remembered the incident after I read the newspaper, but decided to wait until later to tell Steve about it. He seemed to be in a good mood and I didn't want to ruin it.

A/N: I'm sure you all know who was banging on Steve's door 😂