FIFTEEN—CALM ME DOWN
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THE BOTTOM OF the plate nearly burned my hand as I set it down on the bed, disrupting the peace of his bedroom. Stepping back to flick on the lights to the space, I closed the door and surveyed the area, my eyes landing on Bucky. 

He hadn't moved from his place since I'd entered the room, just kept his back facing me as he sat in one of the two cushioned chairs that furnished the room, his head resting on the back of the seat. With a few steps closer, I could see his legs, stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle and perched on the windowsill in front of him. He was just staring at the trees of the forest that kept us from public view, their leaves gently illuminated by the moonlight. It seemed like he didn't realize I'd even entered the room.

But then he shifted his feet and spoke, his tone, scratchy from lack of use, scraping across my fingers, up my arms and grazing my collarbone on its way into my ears. "About time, doll," he said.

Doll. The endearing word caused me to lose my breath, but only for a moment, before I replied, "I came as soon as I could. My parents are night owls, they've never gone to bed earlier than ten o'clock. I would have come sooner if it was possible, I swear."

Bucky stood up, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips, accompanied by a black t-shirt on his upper half. He shrugged. "I wasn't that hungry anyway," he said nonchalantly, but a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth, giving him away. 

"Just be happy I was able to bring you anything," I joked, crossing my arms and jutting a hip out. "Next time, I might just...forget."

His eyes got wide, displaying mock fear. "You wouldn't." Raising his eyebrows at the hot meal of homemade pizza on his plate, he added, "Aren't you going to yell at me for eating on the bed?"

I rolled my eyes. "Just eat it, old man." I grinned as he sat down, bringing the plate closer to him and took a bite of the pizza. Turning the chair so I would face him, I sat down and stifled a yawn. "When did you get so...laidback?"

Bucky chewed, furrowing his eyebrows at the words. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," I sighed, leaning forward and putting my elbows on my knees, my chin in my hands, "you used to be so uptight about everything. Now, you're...staring out of windows in the dark and watching the trees."

He smirked again, tugging an invisible line between the two of us, making me want to be closer to him, even by just an inch. I leaned even more, something to ease the tugging sensation, but just small enough it would go unnoticed. Even by him. "What can I say, the trees are fascinating."

I raised my eyebrows. "Don't do that. I just want to talk, none of that, 'I don't get affected by anything' crap."

Bucky blinked, flicked his eyes down to his plate, where he'd returned the piece of pizza to look at me. "Sorry," he said softly, folding his hands and holding eye contact with me, so intensely it felt as if a hole was being drilled into my head, "it's just...you calm me down."

My mouth went dry. I swallowed roughly and hung my head, composing myself as best I could before meeting his eyes again. When I did, he was playing with the drawstring of his sweatpants, fiddling like a child would. "I..." I couldn't form a coherent sentence for what felt like an hour. "I calm you down?" 

He let out a humorless chuckle. "Yeah, I know, sounds kind of like bullshit."

I shook my head. "Believe me, it doesn't." I smirked, waiting for him to look at me so he knew I was only joking when I added, "not really."

His lips curled up into a small smile, one that sent butterflies down my spine. What I would give for him to smile like that every day for the rest of his life, a voice confessed in my mind. 

"It helps, you know," I said, my voice quiet due to the late hour of the night. "Having someone in your corner. You don't have to go through this alone."

He shifted his eyes over to mine lazily. "Go through what?" he deadpanned. 

I shrugged. "I don't know, being away from Sam and Steve? Being locked up in here with me?"

"And your parents," he interrupted.

I waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, that's beside the point. I'm just saying that you shouldn't shut yourself off. It won't do you any good."

His face took on a scornful expression for a second as he remarked, "which PTSD textbook did you get that one out of?"

Shaking my head again, I replied softly, "I have a lot of experience with PTSD, first-hand."

Bucky scoffed. "Wilson," he grumbled.

"Okay, what's your problem with Sam? He's done nothing wrong and in case you forgot, he's out there risking his life just so you can stay a free man." My words came out in an icy manner.

He glanced around the room. "You call this freedom? Hiding out in a stranger's house and eating pizza under the curtain of the night just to avoid being caught by your parents?" Bucky rolled his eyes and stood up, stalking towards me. "Yeah, real freedom. Captain America would be proud."

Glaring at him, I rose to my feet as well, trying to even the playing ground but being terribly disappointed, as he still had a good three or four inches on me, causing me to tilt my head up just the slightest in order to keep my eyes trained on his while standing mere inches apart. 

"I'm sorry the current...circumstances aren't as comfortable as they could be. But you can't just dodge my question that easily. Why do you shut down whenever I mention Sam?"

His eyes darkened. "I could ask you the same about your brother. Cade." 

I inhaled a sharp breath, shock at his words causing a bowling ball to drop in my stomach. "That...that was a low blow," I whispered, clenching my hands in fists. "I don't have to tell you everything about my life. Some things are personal."

He leaned forward, seemingly basking in my discomfort. "Likewise, doll," he hissed.

The room was silent apart from my shaky breathing. I took a step away from him, my calves bumping into the chair, an obstacle in my path to the door. Swallowing the rising lump in my throat, I bit back a string of curses I was anxious to fly at him, and instead settled on a cold delivery. "I hope that pizza was enough," I retorted, "because it looks like I might just forget to bring you breakfast tomorrow."

Bucky's eyes lost some of their hostility when he saw the glossiness in my eyes, but I turned away from him and stalked to the door as quickly as I could before closing the door behind me. I was desperate to let the tears spill from my eyes, but I wasn't going to give him that satisfaction, even if he couldn't see me. So while I tried to keep my emotions in check, like I'd taught myself to do my whole life, I slid down the door and sat in the fetal position against the wood, hugging my knees to my chest. 

Breathe, Elda. Just breathe. It'll all be over soon. 

I could see flashes of a rather handsome teenager, his mop of dark curly hair always in the way of his eyes because that was the way he liked it. He never wanted to get his haircut. He always canceled the appointments that Mom would make for him. 

In. Out.

He was older. An arm wrapped around my shoulders, he pulled me in for a hug, nearly suffocating me. I didn't care, though. That was how it always was. He squeezed me just a little too tightly, and I complained loudly until he ruffled my hair and let me go. 

In. Out. 

I'll always be here to chase the monsters from underneath your bed, he'd promised when I was six. Don't worry, El, I'm your big brother. I'll always protect you.

My breathing technique broke as the memory seared through my mind, nearing physical pain as I tried to hold in the pitiful whimpers falling from my lips. You're not here, I called out in my head, and look what's happened. I need you, Cade. 

But he wasn't here. 

Suddenly, the door opened behind me and I almost crashed to the ground if it wasn't for Bucky's hand resting on my back, holding me up. 

Our last words flashed in my head again and I scrambled to my feet, momentarily repulsed by his touch. "What?" I hissed, wiping my eyes furiously. 

He looked at me dejectedly. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't want to make you cry."

I scoffed, wiping my nose with my pajama shirt. "Yeah, well, no one ever really wants to make a person cry." Shaking my head, I retreated and turned to walk away, towards the stairs and up to my bedroom. "I'll see you in the morning, Buck."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Those damn blue eyes, they stare right into your soul. 

"I'm fine," I said, sniffing and clearing my head, even though tears still ran down my face in a slow, shining trail. "Nothing I can't handle."

I had no doubt that he watched me all the way up the stairs, only closing his door when I was out of sight. 

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so yeah...here's another chapter. i was gonna have bucky invite elda back into his room so they could just hang out for the rest of the night and then they'd like fall asleep curled up together but i was like nO let's keep elda pissed at bucky, he deserves it for playing the cade card!!! you'll get more about cade later in the book, don't worry my loves :)

hope you enjoyed, i'm in a really emotional mood bc i've been watching the show, 'containment' for the past like three days and i'm incredibly in love with it, you have no idea(except for maybe lauren, cece, and jas). 

also, i'm on summer vacation! so that hopefully means a lot of writing time for me and it'll give you guys a lot of reading material!

thanks for reading, as always :)

oh, and before i go, JAKE RILEY IS A MOFO BEAN THAT DESERVES SO MUCH BETTER THAN WHAT HE GOT. thank you, good night.

xoxo laura

published on: june 4, 2018