It was the first time in his life where he truly understood what earth-shattering silence was. It was ironically deafening and loud; too loud. He stood there motionless as the howling of the blood pumping in his head, his heartbeat inside his chest, and your soft cries on the other side of that door became unbearable. His world seemed to have stopped the second he had said those words to you and, it was like for the first time in five years, it was only you and him in the world.
The moment those words left his lips, he had regretted them.
Truth is, he regretted them before he even said them. He knew with conviction that they would hurt you and they did- they absolutely did.
After much subconscious effort, he had finally done it. He had hurt you to the point where there was no going back. Whatever was left of whatever the hell was even still there was now gone. And even though you did hurt him to a point to where he never thought he would ever recover, and even though you are a heartless bitch to him, he knew he shouldn't have said that. He had crossed the line.
He knew well what you went through when you were younger. It was wrong of him to shove such a negative aspect of your life in your face. Even though he did hate you so much, he had to make an exception for that.
Especially when it wasn't even true to begin with.
His hand is still frozen around the doorknob as he blinks hot and heavy tears away.
A tremor shot down his spine as he practically felt the warmth of your presence behind the door.
His throat hurt as he swallowed down the thick and heavy lump.
He couldn't help it- you had made him so angry as you held his watch. When he made the connection he saw fire red and he was furious. The sight of you made something inside of him snap. Maybe it was the memories that overwhelmed him or maybe it was the reminder that you ever only wanted him for one thing.
But those memories - it overcame everything in his being. He had lost all self-control.
How could you?
His eyes furrow together as he remembers the reason for everything - for all this, and for his anger. He was so busy thinking about how much he hurt you by saying those words (and about the memory of the most amazing time of his life) when he had totally forgotten what you did, who you are.
He clears his throat slowly, backing away from the door, and dropping his hand from the knob.
He couldn't fall for it. Not again.
Dr. Banner had told him he had his weakness, and his weakness was you.
This was what you wanted: you wanted pity so it could look like you didn't mean it. You wanted to look like you did nothing wrong.
With tears now gone and his sadness for you now inexistent, he leaves you behind and walks back down the hallway towards the main living area. He shakes his head to himself almost disappointedly as he rubbed the back of his head, his heavy feet shuffling.
He couldn't believe he almost caved.
He had to stay strong just like he has the last five years. He had to think about his future, not his past.
He and Ashlyn had some tough times the few months leading up to their engagement, and also the first few of their marriage, but he knew that most of that had to do with you. You were a constant distraction from what was really important. The moment you were out of the picture, it was just him and Ashlyn and he was finally able to focus on just her.
Things eventually started getting better. Ashlyn was happy, she was ecstatic about life, she was enjoying the shoes she walked in, and she couldn't be more thankful. It was a contrast to what she was felt months prior.
She ended up being the perfect Mrs. Barnes that his parents would have wanted, and that made him happy for them.
It broke his heart that they wouldn't be here to see Bucky welcome his baby into the world.
And that's the thought that's going through his head as he watches Ashlyn from the hallway wall. She wore a little yellow dress and her hair was in a French braid. He was surprised her little belly wasn't showing yet.
She was setting the table and preparing for dinner. The gold sequin napkins, that had a grey ring around them, glowed against the perfectly white porcelain plates as she set them on top. There were three tall scentless candles in the middle of the table and the table runner was grey, matching the rings.
Ashlyn was always for the show, he had learned.
Bucky waited impatiently for Ashlyn to look up at him, and when she finally did, he smiled softly.
She returned his smile, setting the last rolled napkin down. She couldn't help but notice the subtle hint of flush against his face.
She frowned slightly.
"Everything ok?"
"Hm?" He hadn't trusted his voice yet.
Also, he had to come up with a lie.
She perked a brow, "You look flushed."
Bucky uncrosses his arms as he walks over to Ashlyn, eyeing down at the table as he does so and then back at her- smile still on his face.
"No, yeah, I'm fine. I just wasn't feeling too good for a second." He rubs his belly for the added effect.
Ashlyn frowns again, "Oh, no. I hope you're not too sick for dinner."
Bucky hums in delight as he walks around Ashlyn, grabbing her by her waist.
"No, I'm just fine." Ashlyn leans back against him and sighs softly, a little smile playing on her lips at the loving act. Bucky kisses her neck - right under her ear- and then leans his chin on her shoulder, looking down.
"But you did set this up real quick. You're really hungry, huh?" He squeezes her side gently with his right hand.
"I think it's the baby."
For some reason those words make a shiver go down Bucky's spine and he freezes. His face becomes serious and he begins to feel an overwhelming and unexpected emotion. Ashlyn turns around to face him.
He's looking down, but now at her stomach. His grip stays tight on her waist as she steps closer to him.
This was real.
And it terrified him.
The realization makes a short breath escape his mouth. It nearly knocked him over. This was real. He was going to be a father.
He doesn't know why it makes him feel sick.
He feels Ashlyn's hands go to either side of his face. She observes his intense features, especially when one of his hands goes to her tummy. She softly runs her hand over his left cheek, "Are you sure you're okay?"
A short laugh, almost a cry, leaves his mouth. He licks his bottom lip right after and sniffs slightly. He moves in closer to her and tightens his grip on her.
When his eyes finally make their way to meet her own, she's already staring into his, questioning.
He didn't like it- they were practically taunting.
He lets out that same cold and short laugh and then slightly shakes his head.
It just comes out-
"I'm fucking terrified."
Ashlyn smiles and they're both staring at each other with small tears pooling in their eyes. She assumes it's because of the baby and the new changes that are going to happen over the next few months. She understood because she was afraid, too. But something else also bothered her.
But she couldn't say.
"Me too, but we can do this." She whispers. If she could say it strongly enough, maybe she could convince them both.
But he's not too sure, he thinks.
He's never felt so worthless; so dirty. How could he bring a child into this world knowing what he did, what kind of man he was? His conscious never bothered him this much before, it was always more about the questions of why why why and how does he move on.
Maybe Y/N was right, maybe he was an awful husband.
He doesn't even have time to think before he feels Ashlyn's lips on his, demanding, and leading. He can't help it, as much as he feels like throwing up right now, he doesn't know if this will be the last time he'll be able to do this for a long time. So he kisses her back so hard she almost tumbles back against the table. He cups the side of her face with his left hand as he deepens their kiss, tilting his head to the side for better access to get his tongue in. He's demanding and strong - and he hasn't kissed her like this in a long time.
It was different.
Ashlyn starts to pull away when she senses Bucky getting a little more intense, a sense of fear building inside of her, and she places a hand on his chest to stop him. They stare at each other breathing hard and in shock. He would say she looked concerned or confused but she felt something else. Something that she herself can't quite put her finger on.
She clears her throat and adjusts her dress. She turns back around to fix the napkin on the plate that was obviously already neatly prepared. It was obvious to both of them that she was trying to break the tension.
Bucky stands there in the same spot, watching her hands move the utensils in a blur.
That howling sounds was still in his ears.
"Baby," he says breathlessly, putting his hand over her right one to stop her. And she does immediately. His touch is comforting, pleading.
He didn't want to lose her.
God, how he didn't want this to blow up.
"I'm okay, I'm just starving." She looks up at the tv and mumbles to herself as she makes her way over. Bucky steps back curtly as she does so, "I'm gonna put on some light jazz, and then Y/N will be out soon, and we can all eat and have a nice dinner."
The silence lasts a bit as she picks up the remote for the apple tv, finds the Spotify app, and finally puts on some Count Basie.
Bucky leans forward on the chair in front of him, deep in thought. What was happening to him?
His stomach was in weird knots.
He's felt this feeling before, and it was almost identical to the one he felt on his wedding day. But this one was stronger; helpless.
He pinches the bridge of his nose as he makes his way to the kitchen to see what Ashlyn had made.
He had to distract himself from his accusing consciousness.
He remembers when they first got married. Ashlyn could barely fry a damn egg. He found it adorable. Five years later, and she at least attempted to be decent at cooking and she successfully succeeded. He was proud of her.
He's about to lift the pan lid when he hears Ashlyn's voice.
"I just got the weirdest call from Steve while you were in the bathroom."
He stops suddenly. Steve. He hadn't heard that name in years. They were best friends for years and then one day he was just gone. He never knew why and it hurt him. It took him years just to focus on only Ashlyn and work.
Lately, his past was following him everywhere, so this definitely perks his interest. He lifts an eyebrow and turns around to look at Ashlyn.
"Steve?"
Ashlyn places the remote down on the coffee table and spins around to look at Bucky. Her expression is unreadable which only makes Bucky more curious.
"Did you know him and Y/N were seeing each other?"
7 Years Earlier
You drink the last of your orange juice until there's nothing but ice and the annoying sound of nothing being sucked into the straw. You suck and suck on it just long enough for Nat to look up at you over her milkshake with a raised brow. She had just finished telling you about her hot night with a bartender named Nick Miller or something and you had to drink all of your juice to quench your now intense thirst.
You didn't even realize you were doing it and being annoying as hell until she gave you that look. You caught yourself and pulled back in a chuckle, covering your mouth with the sleeve of your shirt in embarrassment.
"I'm sorry, I don't like to waste."
Nat smiles, "That's okay." She takes another sip of her vanilla shake and then pushes her glass aside. She crosses her arms on the table in front of her and leans in with a smirk, "So, I told you about my boy, now you tell me what's got you all happy and sucking your straw that hard."
You frown with a small smile on your lips, "What are you talking about?" You honestly didn't know what it was she was referring to. Sure you were in a good mood, but were you that in a good mood? To where she actually caught and called you out on it? You were confused at the accusation as you push a strand of hair behind your ear.
She leans in closer with a tilt of her head, "Oh come on, you've been smiling nonstop since we met up. And let's not mention that you called me out of the blue after ignoring my messages for several days."
You duck your head down in shame. She was right and you were hoping she wouldn't have called you out on it. But you've come to learn that Nat is Nat, and Nat is honest.
"Nat..." you were prepared to explain yourself for ghosting.
"Look, it's okay, Y/N. I know why you were upset. It's not that hard to connect the dots." She reaches over and steals one of your fries. You glare at her. You both literally just had a two-minute talk all about how you both hate sharing your food and there she goes stealing your fry. She chews and swallows quickly, "But clearly you got over that. Something happened."
"Nothing happened, Nat, I just have a new outlook on things now."
She bites her lip, "Is it because of Stee..." she emphasizes the "e" playfully, in a singing tone, and you roll your eyes.
"No, I haven't even spoken to him since the gala."
"Oh." She deflates, looking disappointed.
You drink the last bit of your orange juice-now ice air- and take a beat before responding. You had to think back to what moment it was that changed things, "I spoke to Bucky the other day," Nat's eyebrows come together curiously. She wasn't expecting that at all. You start running your finger up and down your cold glass, trying to gather condensation on the tip of your now hot finger, "and then he really came to my rescue and it just showed me you guys aren't so bad. What's with that look? Nat."
She looks down at your finger and then at you, "Nothing, I just didn't know you guys were friends."
Something about the way she said that really put you off the wrong way and you didn't like it. But you move past it.
"Ha, friends. Still weird saying it out loud."
Nat raises a hand up deafeningly, "For some reason, your fries taste better than mine, so this is a disclaimer. I'm about to steal another." You smile and roll your eyes. You push your plate closer to her, giving her an open invitation. She takes a fry and waves it in the air before shoving it in her mouth. She eyes you carefully and then swallows her fry.
"So how exactly did he rescue you?" She asks, wiping her hand on a napkin.
"My car got stuck the other day so I called him to come to help me. That's actually why I had called you a bunch of times, too. But you never returned my call." She stares at you a little bit longer again and then sighs. You didn't like this, it annoyed you, "Why?"
"Nah, it's nothing." She pulls out her phone and quickly changes the subject with a smile which you are thankful for, "It's almost six. We should get going before the movie starts without us."
____
Your girl day with Nat had been a success and it wouldn't be long before you had a feeling that you could call her your best friend. You hadn't had a best friend since you were sixteen. Her name was Amber and one day she just caught you off - said that you were holding her back in life.
You try not to think about the bad things that happened in your past and instead decided to focus on the future.
You had invited her to a night at her place to catch a movie. So here you were getting the place ready.
After Ashlyn had moved out, you realized how little things you actually owned. If it weren't for most of the furniture that she let you keep, it was like a newly moved in home. Your bare feet even echoed against the wood floor as you walked from the living room and into the kitchen.
You had gone grocery shopping so your fridge and pantry was readily stocked for at least several nights of Netflix binging and intense midnight munching. You actually enjoyed cooking as well, so you made a pact with yourself that you would try the first few weeks of living alone to try and cook yourself dinner instead of on spending on taking out so the impact of paying for the home wouldn't hit you so hard.
You kind of enjoyed living alone - you could walk around naked from a fresh shower and you could dance around your living room with headphones in with no one to bother or judge you. Except for maybe Pebbles, your newly adopted kitty.
Aside from the silence when the TV wasn't on, it was quite nice. You could literally do anything you wanted.
You decided to make her and yourself some dinner, snacks for after. You stirred the pot of noodles that were boiling in the salted water. You wipe the back of your steamed hand on your apron that hung around your waist. Looking over at the counter, you smile at the awaiting ingredients that would prepare a delicious penne vodka. You dip your pinky into the sauce for a taste and hum to yourself in delight.
It was damn perfect.
You lower the heat on the stove to medium-high and then you head back to the TV to pick a movie off Netflix.
You and Nat were friends now, but for some reason, you couldn't really pinpoint what kind of movie she would be into. You were fighting against choosing either Mr. and Mrs. Smith or Clueless. You were that lost.
You're about to make a choice when a knock startles you off the couch.
She was early.
You look over your house once more, not necessarily prepared to welcome your first guest ever.
Was is clean enough?
Was your decor ugly?
Did it seem like you were trying too hard?
Oh shit. Was she allergic to cats?
You reach over and try to fix the potpourri on the table until it at least looked somewhat aesthetically pleasing. Once it was fine, eh I guess, you rushed over to the door.
You heard a second knock.
"Coming!"
You unlock your door and you have a huge smile on yourself as you're about to greet Nat. Except that it's not Nat.
It's not a stunning redhead with a quirked brow. Instead, it's a boy with blue eyes and he's looking down at your apron in utter amusement.
"Wow, are we eating tonight?" Bucky asks playfully.
His half-smile is bright and joyful, a playful tone lingers in his voice. He's stretching out his right hand to hold open the door a little more. He wore a green and white plaid shirt and his brown hair was unruly.
shit.
Your once big smile is now a teasing glare.
"You again?"
He winces, "Ouch. Not even a how are you?" He places a dramatic left hand over his heart as if you've literally hurt him.
"You're the one at my house."
He rolls his eyes and moves in closer to you, clearly begging for you to let him in, "Fine. I wanted to get your advice on something. I so happened to be in the area."
You ponder for a second and decide it's okay. But you didn't want him here when Nat got here. You look around before instinctually grabbing him by his sleeve and pulling him inside.
"Fine, but make it quick."
He tumbles in with a smile and then looks around your place. He notes the newly bought rug under the coffee table and the sound and smell of boiling noodles.
You take in his concentrated look as you untie the apron from around your waist.
"So you have a question? This couldn't have been done over a text message?"
You glare at the back of his head as he goes into your kitchen without even asking, peering over the ingredients on the counter.
"Yea," he mumbles, picking at your stuff, "but I wasn't too far, plus I'm kinda lonely and bored. Thought I'd see a friend." He sticks his finger into the sauce and you practically run over to him in annoyance, "Ashlyn's still in Paris. Hey!" He exclaims as you push him aside and set the bowl back towards the subway tiles on the wall.
"Stop touching my food."
He sticks his finger in his mouth and sucks on it with a big smile, it was obvious he was teasing you.
God, you hated him.
You sigh as you open your pantry above your head and grab a packet of popcorn, slamming it on the counter.
"Pasta and popcorn? You're weird."
You roll your eyes, "It's for after the movie, after dinner."
He nods at your words and then looks over at the island.
He notices the two plates of food and two glasses for sodas.
His eyes narrow.
"Shame, shame. I thought you weren't ready for dating."
His comment makes you double take from the popcorn to his face and the island. You hated talking about your dating life, anything that had to do with it brought a feeling of nausea to your stomach.
Thankfully this wasn't it.
"You could've at least let Steve know."
His tone is disappointed. It was obvious everyone rooted for you and Steve, even your neighbor next door did. Knowing that you were possibly pushing that idea aside really affected Bucky. It was obvious he was not too happy about it. Especially since you were now all friends, it almost seemed like some kind of betrayal- even if it was uncommitted.
You sigh tiredly as you walk past him, shoving him slightly aside to take a look at your pasta. It looked almost ready so you reach into the bottom cabinet bending down to grab the colander placing it in the sink.
"It's not. I invited Nat over."
"Oh, okay." You sense the relief in his voice.
"So Ashlyn's really not back yet, huh?"
"Nah. Must be good a good sign, though. For the company at least." He says pulling one of the stools from under the island to sit on it.
You turn off the pot and grab two mittens to prepare to drain the water.
He watches you and your meticulous movements as you pour the pasta into the colander in the sink, the hot and heavy steam rising into the air.
"Where'd you learn to cook?"
You laugh at the memories that answer his question.
"My momma," you shake the colander until all the water is out, and then you re-pour it into the pot. You grab your vodka sauce and a mixing spoon and pour it inside the pot, "She used to be a chef at this really nice restaurant down by Lexington. I always enjoyed watching her so she figured I had the same genes as her, so she took her time to teach me her...ways." You wave your spoon crazily in the air as you say the word 'ways'.
"I didn't know she was a chef."
You furrow your brows as you scrape the last of the sauce in the bowl, "Ashlyn never told you?"
"She told me a lot about your family," your tummy turns in sadness. So that meant he knew about what happened to them. You take in a deep breath and blink away tears. It's been only three years and it still hurts like it was yesterday. He notices the way your shoulder sulk and how you try to toss your hair to cover your face using your shoulders.
He looks down as he whispers, "I'm sorry by the way."
But how could you be selfish? You knew what happened to his mother, too. Everyone around the country knew it was in all the papers, all the websites, it was on CNN nationwide. It was ten years ago but you remember. You use that as a common ground.
You place the bowl down and then mix the declines pasta in the pot on low heat.
You look up at him as you're mixing and you both share a look. You see the sadness lingering behind his eyes.
"I'm sorry, too." He knows what you're talking about and he smiles for a fraction of a second. You look away and continue to mix the food.
You don't tell him, but that night he had picked you up you had just gotten back from visiting their grave. It was their wedding anniversary and you dropped off some lilies.
"Thanks by the way. For the car."
He smiles softly.
"No problem."
It's silent as you turn off the stove. You walk over to the fridge and grab basil from the shelf. He watches as you rinse it and then grab a knife and start cutting it into minced pieces on the cutting board very quickly with skill.
You look up at the clock on the stove and then back at your knife cutting the green vegetable.
She would be here any minute.
"So what advice did you want?"
"Okay, yeah," he pulls out his phone from his front pocket and starts skimming through Safari, "It's almost our fourth month anniversary and I wanted to take her to a concert, ya know, like floor seats or VIP access."
"Of course." You chuckle. You grab the basil in your cupped hands and drizzle it over the pasta as a garnish.
"So which do you think she'll like better - Coldplay or John Mayer?"
"Hm. For an anniversary?" You turn around with your arms crossed and ponder his choices for a second. Your sister was cliche. She wasn't grey, she was either black or white. The answer was simple.
"Coldplay."
He perks a brow at you, "Really?"
"Yeah. I think she only knows like one John Mayer song. She knows a butt load of Coldplay, thought. Ever since her Twilight phase back in high school."
"Twilight phase?" He says in amusement. He's smiling wide, his nose crinkled in an adorable way that showed he was cringing.
"Yeah, ya know, when all those girls used to make those depressing fan vids to Fix You and shit." You wave your hand in the air as if it's nothing, "She'll love it."
He laughs and jumps off the stool, "Okay, cool. Yeah. Coldplay." You eye him suspiciously. Something was off and you know immediately what it is. You try not to giggle.
You notice as he looks over to one side and then gives you a small smile, "Thanks."
You're looking up at him and you give him a small knowing smile. You bite your bottom lip.
He narrows his eyes at you, "What?"
"You wanted it to be John Mayer, didn't you?"
He gapes at you for a second and then chuckles. He looks away, slightly embarrassed.
You smile. You're about to tell him how much you also think John Mayer could be more fitting for an anniversary when a knock echoed through the house.
Your eyes go wide.
"Shit. That's Nat."
You quickly cover the pot behind you and then run towards the front door.
When you open it Nat is standing there with a bottle of wine and a bright smile.
"Hey, I'm so happy you're here." You greet her with a tight hug, "Come in."
"Hey! It smells so good in here. I bought myself a Moscato. Thought we could use it while we talk about-" her voice drifts off as she looks up to see Bucky standing in the kitchen. She furrows her brows as he gives her a slight wave and then she looks back at you, "Uhm? Hey, Bucky."
You wave your hand nonchalantly, "He was just leaving."
She still has a weird look on her face as she looks between the both of you. Bucky walks back into the living room, getting ready to leave.
He looks between you and Nat and smiles.
"You girls have fun. But not too much fun." He adds a suggestive wink in there that makes you roll your eyes, but the smile stays on your face.
You shove him out the door with one hand as he's smiling, "Goodbye, Barnes!" He practically trips out of the house.
"Bye, ugly." He mutters under his breath in a playful tone.
You turn around after you close the door and Nat is still giving you that same look.
But you're completely oblivious as you breathe out a long sigh with a roll of your eyes, "Sorry, I thought he'd never leave. He just showed up."
You both decide on watching Clueless which, honestly, surprises you. You both laugh at the movie and also chill back in happiness as you munch down dinner.
When the movie is over, you're both sitting on the floor in front of the couch, a wine glass in hand, and scattered baby photos of you and Ashlyn everywhere. You're telling Nat the background stories about you and Ashlyn and your parents, and it's making her happy. You were letting people in and she enjoyed how much she was learning about you and your sister. You were both great girls.
Nat's holding one of you and Ashlyn when you were both little. It was a picture you took at Disneyland when your parents were still alive.
"--And they had just gotten us these stuffed Mickey Mouse toys. But I ended up puking all over mine so I was trying to steal Ashlyn's."
Nat chuckles, "Ew, that's gross."
You smile softly at the memory, "Yeah my parents were so mad."
She looks at you for a second and then sits down the picture. Finally, she asks something she's been dying to. She says your name softly before readjusting herself on the floor and taking a sip of her wine.
"Yeah?"
"I-" she takes in a deep breath and then sits a little further up on her legs, "Bucky is a sweet guy. He naturally has this way of getting close to people. It's just how he is. He's a lot like his mom."
You furrow your brows in confusion and at her sudden rant, "Ok?"
She pushes a strand of hair away from her face and continues, "I just - I do get worried with him sometimes because he tends to over care. He's very sympathetic."
You take a sip of your wine, a light fuzzy feeling now starting to take over.
"I just don't want you to..." she sighs as she looks up at you, uncertain as to how to say what she wants to say without it coming out wrong, "I don't want you to think that he's being a certain way when he's not. When he loves a girl he is committed to them. Being nice is just his nature, and sometimes it can come off flirty, I just want you to protect your heart. I can't even begin to tell you how many girls involuntarily have fallen for him not even realizing it."
You tilt your head at her.
You honestly wanted to laugh, "I am so confused right now. Nat, I do not like Bucky. He's my friend. Sure, he's being nice and all but he's also an ass."
"Okay. Okay good. I know this is a weird thing for me to say, but I know him well, trust me."
"When he loves someone he is dedicated, and I mean it, he will give it his all. And honestly, I think Ashlyn's the one."
"How do you know so much about him?" You catch yourself asking quickly, and you feel like you've asked something too personal. But when she smiles you take that as an invite so you continue, "I just, you seem very protective of him. Are you guys close?"
"We used to date in college." Your perk a brow. You did not expect that "He was a sweetheart. He had gone through a lot and we were there for each other. But he wasn't the one."
Your face falls slightly, "I'm sorry."
She smiles wide, "We agreed we'd be better off as friends." She takes another sip of her wine, "And trust me, I totally get him being an ass thing. He's a dick."
You smirk tipping your wine glass to take a sip, "But like a nice dick."
"A soft dick."
You practically spit out your wine as you both laugh out loud.
Present Day
You, Ashlyn, and Bucky all sat around the dinner table in utter silence. The only sound was one of the scrapings of the utensils against the plate as you cut your chicken and when Ashlyn or Bucky would place their fork down to take a sip of their water.
Bucky was fuming. His anger had nearly doubled since the moment he saw you in his closet. He had only peered up at you twice after you entered the kitchen.
He couldn't handle it.
Every time he saw you he couldn't stop envisioning Steve touching you, kissing you, doing all kinds of things to you, and it angered him. Steve was his best friend.
You let him?
His own best friend? You were worst than he thought, and to make it worst he was jealous beyond comprehension. He wanted to find Steve and punch him in the face for fucking you.
But did you guys even do that?
How serious were you?
How did he never tell him?
Has it been going on for five years?
He tried to hold a blank look on his face to not look obvious. It made him even more annoyed that you looked empty of emotions, though.
And truth is, you were.
You had been all cried out from your episode in the shower. You were numb and over everything.
You were over the situation, you were over being sad and trying to make it right.
You hated yourself for being so cruel to your own sister.
You were numb.
Mechanically, staring straight into your plate with a death glare, you cut another piece of your chicken and chewed on it.
Maybe you should just leave and find a hotel. Maybe you should give up entirely. It's not like anyone loves you or ever loved you. You were unwanted, you were a waste.
Your sister definitely would not love you once she found out what you've done.
Ashlyn took an awkward sip of her water as she looked at you. She wasn't necessarily upset, she just had a lot of questions. If anything, she was happy that you and Steve had finally given it a try. Why hadn't you told her you were dating Steve, let alone, living with him? Why did you leave?
Steve had sounded distraught and curious over the phone as if he was waiting for some kind of news. That made Ashlyn curious because she immediately knew you and Steve were hiding something. Did you not trust her?
The tension around the dining room was growing by the second.
The first sound to break it is a vibrating sound from the living room. It was Ashlyn's phone that she forgot on the couch.
Everyone looked over towards it. Ashlyn pushed back her chair. She was thankful because she couldn't handle the silence anymore.
"Sorry, that's my phone." She said a little too ecstatically. You and Bucky met eyes for a brief second, and after that, it was hard to look away.
"Hello? No yeah. Oh, how is she doing? She's not?" Ashlyn looks over at you over the couch but you're still looking at Bucky as he looked back at you.
Was that him? Bucky kept thinking.
"I'll let her know. I actually haven't seen her on her phone. Is everything okay with her?" She whispers the last part.
He's dead to you you say in your head, your face cold as stone.
Ashlyn frowns at Steve's response, "Okay. Yeah, yeah no worries, Steve."
You feel your stomach drop instantly and Bucky's nostrils flare up in anger. Your stomach is in tight knots and your heart is beating so fast you felt like you were going to pass out. Your head immediately snaps over to Ashlyn who's looking at your with an unreadable face. You swallow nervously. Your palms were sweating and you wanted to run out of there.
This couldn't happen, not now.
Ashlyn says bye to Steve and then walks back to the table. She pulls out her chair slowly, agonizingly slow, and she sits down. She bites her lip as she takes her napkin off the table and then diligently places it over her lap. She smooths it down and then pulls herself back close to her plate.
She clears her throat and looks at Bucky and then at you.
You were terrified and Bucky looked pissed.
You were waiting for it - for the blow-up.
But it never came.
Instead, Ashlyn clears her throat and picks up her fork.
You watch her like a hawk, like waiting for an atomic bomb to go off.
"Okay, so who thinks I put too much salt in this?"
You feel your left hand tighten next to you as only one thought crossed your mind:
Steve Rogers, what did you say.