Summary: You and Bucky realize your relationship is not what it used to be, it doesn't feel right anymore

A/N: Got this idea from Two Ghosts by Harry Styles. Been listening to his album non stop, it's a masterpiece. Just got inspiration from this song. Now there are lyrics in the middle of the fic, I didn't take every little word into account but... hope you like it. This is the one and only part for this imagine. I just felt the need to write this. I was having a bad day, feeling sad for no specific reason and just needed a good cry. Decided to write something angsty, it worked.  
ALSO, Let's see how long it's going to take to update this book. I know it's already been way too long. I'm just trying to get these couple requests done, then I'll be ready to take new requests again.

Warning: ANGST, ANGST, ANGST

Same lips red, same eyes blue
Same white shirt, couple more tattoos
But it's not you, it's not me

You and Bucky were sitting in the living room of your apartment, just watching the television. You had ordered some food a while ago and you were just waiting for it to arrive. You had your head on Bucky's shoulder, just like you always did when the two of you were alone, watching TV in comfortable silence.

At least it used to be comfortable silence. Now it was more like a... silence that just was there because that's the way it always had been. Neither of you normally spoke while you were concentrating on a television program. It gave you both the silence and peace needed to focus. It's not like you two were against talking during TV time but usually just gentle touches here and there were enough.

As you looked down at the white t-shirt you had been "borrowing" from him since you could remember, fiddling with the hem of it, you realized something was off.

You glanced up at him, seeing him look back at you shortly, sending you a smile that barely made the corners of his mouth twitch. He turned his gaze back to the television, focusing on the program.

His arm was slung over the backrest, hand resting on the side of your arm, it felt... different. It didn't feel like it used to. It didn't feel like he was holding it there to be in contact with you, just to touch you and show you that he cared. No, it felt like it was there because it was supposed to be.

You frowned, shaking off the sad thoughts and focused on the TV again, or trying to.

Tastes so sweet, looks so real
Sounds like something that I used to feel
But I can't touch what I see

The doorbell rang, making Bucky's head snap back, looking down at the hallway leading to the front door.

"Must be our food," you announced with a tired sounding sigh.

Bucky turned to you, seeing you send him a small smile you always did when you looked at him. It usually made him feel happy and made him wonder how lucky he was to have you in his life. He'd always smile back. You'd tell him you'd go get the food and ask him to go get some plates, some cutlery. He'd give you a firm nod and lean down to place a kiss on your lips.

"I'll go get the food," you said and pat his thigh, pushing yourself up. "If you get the plates?"

Bucky nodded and got up as well. He stood beside you, observing your movements, every little flicker of your face as you looked up into his eyes, doing the same to him. He placed his hands on either side of your face and like he always did, he kissed you. He pulled away soon and looked at you again, taking in the look on your face. It had always been the same, only now it was slightly emptier.

The kiss was the same, the taste was the same, everything looked the same. Bucky couldn't help but wonder why he didn't feel the same way he always had.

You sent him a quick smile before grabbing your wallet and going over to the door while Bucky continued his way to the kitchen.

The fridge light washes this room white
Moon dances over your good side
This was all we used to need

As you sat on the counter, chuckling lightly at something funny Bucky had said to you, you kept poking at the food on the plate with the fork, not really making a move to actually pick it up and eating it. Bucky noticed this and couldn't help but frown. Your laugh sounded the same, it just felt different. Again, it felt forced. It was familiar but not as pleasant as it used to be. It still rang through the room, only it didn't make Bucky feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It made him shiver because of the cold feeling it caused him.

"Hey, could you pass me the—"

Before you could finish, Bucky opened the fridge door and showed the bottle of water he thought you wanted. You nodded, chuckling. He smiled and handed the bottle to you. He always knew what you wanted, what you were about to ask. He watched you open the bottle, the fridge light illuminating the room with a white yet dim glow. You took a few sips of water before handing it back to him to put in the fridge again. The apartment was always very warm since you knew Bucky liked it like that. Bucky preferred warmth over cold, having been in cryo for so much time, he liked to feel warm. He also had a better chance in having a nightmare if it was cold. That's why even keeping your water bottle in the room temperature for too long would warm it up. You always kept the water in the fridge.

Bucky closed the fridge door, eyes never leaving your face as you looked down at your plate. He noticed the moonlight shining through the window, dancing on your features so beautifully. You looked absolutely breathtaking, like the moon was your spotlight, making everything else happening around him absolutely meaningless. As long as you were there with him, he couldn't properly focus on anything else. 

But he wasn't focused for the best of reasons.

You turned to look at Bucky, giving him a questioning look. "What?" You asked, brows furrowing in concern.

Bucky only shook his head with a sad smile playing on his lips. "Just... watching you," he said, looking at every part of your face, every spot highlighted by the moonlight in the dim kitchen, every shadow contrasted with the light. "You look beautiful."

You gave him a small smile in return and adverted your gaze to the plate on your lap, finally piking up some food on the fork that you had used to practically poke the food into mush. "Thank you," you replied quietly, taking a bite of the food.

Tongue-tied like we've never known
Telling those stories we already told
'Cause we don't say what we really mean

You noticed the sad look on his face as much as he tried to conceal it. The lack of light was doing a pretty good job at keeping his emotions hidden from you but not enough for you to not notice something was wrong.

You cleared your throat, making Bucky grab the bottle of water for you once again. You thanked him and took a sip, a long gulp. You placed the bottle on the counter next to you instead of giving it back to Bucky, you placed your plate on the counter as well. You grabbed the edge of the counter top, swinging your feet before looking up at him.

You opened your mouth but couldn't figure out what to say. You wanted to talk, to fill the silence with some words. You wanted to say something you hadn't before, wanted to tell him something interesting that would struck up a conversation between the two of you.

You also wanted to tell him how you were feeling about the situation, about the two of you. Something was off, nothing felt right. Everything seemed to be a mess and it was because you hadn't talked about it. You rarely ever had any serious discussions. You used to have conversations about your relationship all the time, talking about what you wanted out of it, what you expected to happen in the future. Mostly the two of you had the same views on your relationship and same goals you wanted to achieve. But lately, there was less talking, no conversations concerning your relationship. It was as if you were completely out of things to talk about, like you didn't have anything to say about your relationship or worse, didn't want to talk about it at all, knowing it wouldn't end happily.

"Did I ever tell you about the time Steve took me to taste pizza for the first time?"

There it was again, the same old stories that kept repeating themselves. It's not that you didn't want to hear Bucky talk about fond memories, or even the not so fond memories. The stories just kept repeating themselves because that's what you ever talked about, the past.

Not your past, yours and his shared past but your individual pasts. Whenever you talked about your lives, it was always about the life outside of the relationship. It was as if you didn't have a shared life anymore, as if your relationship had run dry.

You only nodded as a response to his question.

"That one time we got Sam and Clint to try the Asgardian liquor and they got so drunk, they had a huge fight about whether a Falcon or Hawk was better?"

"Yes," you muttered.

Bucky sighed, scratching his stubble covered jaw as he tried to think of a story you hadn't heard.

"What about that time we brought Wanda back from getting her wisdom teeth removed and she—"

"Like a million times," you chuckled halfheartedly. Your laughter died down quickly and you sighed through your nose, closing your eyes before rubbing your forehead. You lifted your head to look at Bucky who was staring down at you with sadness etched on his features. "I think we need to talk," you said, pursing your lips together.

He nodded slowly, shrugging. "I think we do."

We're not who we used to be
We're just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me
Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat

"Bucky," you started as tears pooled in your eyes. You shook your head, blinking, refusing to cry. "I don't think this," you waved your hand between the two of you, "works anymore."

Bucky nodded, crossing his arms as he leaned against the fridge, looking at you with his own teary eyes. "It's different than what it was a while ago."

You nod, agreeing to his statement. "It's because we are different."

"Individually or as a couple?"

You chewed the inside of your cheek and turned to look at your hands that were fidgeting on your lap. "I don't think me nor you have changed much over time, do you?"

Bucky shook his head with a small, "No." He looked down at you as you kept your eyes glued on your lap. His heart ached at the sight, seeing you finally give in to the feeling and letting sadness take over, not trying to fake happiness.

"So... It's us. You and me, together."

Bucky nodded, taking a deep breath. "What the hell happened?" He asked lowly, feeling his voice shake.

"I don't know," you let out a quiet sob as tears streamed down your cheeks. "It's just not the same anymore. It doesn't feel right."

Bucky shook his head, tears threatening to escape his eyes as well. He knew he couldn't hold them in for too long. He still tried to. He looked at you, drying your tears with your hand, your fingertips gliding along the skin below your eyes. He wiped a tear of his own away with his thumb and let out a sniffle.

"I'm not happy, Buck."

He let out a shaky breath at your words. He pushed himself off the fridge and took a step closer to you, leaning on the counter right next to you.

"I want to be, I used to be but... I'm not anymore."

Bucky nodded along as you spoke, looking down at your hands that were fiddling nervously on your lap. He placed a hand on yours and you froze. You turned to look at him and saw a few tears slip down his cheeks. That's when you broke down crying, feeling his arms wrap you in one of his warm, comforting hugs. You didn't feel very comforted, though.

We're not who we used to be
We don't see what we used to see
We're just two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty
Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat

You watched Bucky packing all his stuff that he had left at your place. Watching him get ready to leave was breaking you more and more, piece by piece. You couldn't look away, though. It all felt so real, you couldn't just look away and pretend it wasn't happening.

You watched his chest heave with a deep sigh as he finished packing his things. He turned to you, sitting on the bed with your knees up to your chest, chin placed on your knees as silent tears rolled down your face.

You felt Bucky place a hand on your shoulder and you looked at him, seeing that awfully familiar sad smile. He moved his hand to your cheek and ran his thumb along the skin under your eye, catching the falling tears. You leaned your head on his large palm, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the contact for the last time.

You followed him out of the bedroom as he started nearing the front door. He slung the duffel bag filled with his possessions over his shoulder and grabbed the door knob. Before he could twist it, he turned around. You let out a small gasp of air, having sobs intervene with your breathing for who knows how long. "This is for the best, right?" He asked.

You nodded. "We're not who we used to be. We're barely... We're not us anymore. We're just the remains, trying to hold onto something that isn't there."

"I'm tired of feeling like that." Bucky admitted quietly, his shoulder slugging.

"Me too."

Bucky bit his lip, meeting your gaze. He dropped the duffed bag on the floor and walked over to you, hugging you once more. You were quick to throw your arms around him, clawing at his bag as you sobbed into his neck. His hold tightened on you and you felt his body shake as he cried, sharing the same amount of heartbreak you were feeling.

After a while you pulled back, feeling his breath fanning your face. You leaned up, kissing him once more, cherishing the last time you'd ever kiss the man you had loved for so long. He had been your best friend, someone you could share everything to and he felt the same way about you. Somehow along the way, the spark was lost. Still, with desperation, you tried to hold onto it. You loved each other too much to let go.

One of his hands moved to the back of your neck while arm was around your waist, kissing you deeper than he had in a while. There was so much feeling lying beneath the kiss that it made tears appear in your eyes again.

Bucky pulled away, looking into your eyes once more. Without either of you having to say anything, you knew the two of you still loved each other. You still cared for each other immensely.

But you knew the relationship wouldn't work.

Bucky turned away from you, grabbed the duffel bag and opened the door. He turned to you one last time, eyes leaking with tears as he whispered, "Take care, Y/N."

"You too, Bucky."

Bucky closed the door and you bit your lip, trying not to break down crying again but after a second or two you were on the floor, on your knees just crying. You let the tears fall. Your sobs echoed around your apartment as tugged on your hair, crying harder than you ever had. Feeling like your heart had just stopped beating as if Bucky had taken the last, excruciatingly slow beat with him.

Bucky was on the other side of the door, leaning his head and back against the wall, tears running freely as he felt like he had just left his heart with you, crumbling like your relationship had. Slowly, piece by piece.

Both of you knew you'd have to start getting over each other soon, but for the time being, you were both too broken to do more than think about each other. Every thought, every little memory that flashed through your minds just added to the pain, making it hurt more than ever. It was hard to even think about how you'd recover from the breakup. Both of your hearts had been broken, it hurt and you couldn't help but wonder how to mend them.

I'm just trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat