Bucky texts her at the exact moment the screaming starts. She's close to sobbing, watery eyes blinking rapidly at the screen, trying to clear her head to read the text.

Starting now.

It's only two words, but it grants her the ability to breathe. She sits up, glad that she had moved from the common room to her bed, and presses her feet into the soft carpeted floor. The carpet is a good technique to ground herself, feel the softness between her toes. No harm could happen on a floor so soft.

Wiping her eyes, Wanda stands, reaching for her zip up before flinging it on and quietly padding out of her room.

The tower was dark aside from the dim hallway lights that cast just enough brightness to not stub your toe. Slipping out of her phone, her thumbs flew across the keys.

Where at?

She feels silly, standing barefoot during the dead of night waiting for a text back in the dark. Raising her thumb to her lip she chews on her nail lightly, her ears ringing in the quiet.

My room.

She gulps. She has never seen his room. She'd passed it often enough, it was 3 doors down from the workout room. Was that placement purposeful? She doesn't know, but has a feeling it was.

Moving lightly, she walks down the flight of jet-black stairs, barefoot sticking slightly before pausing in front of his door.

Is she supposed to knock? Or just walk right in? If she wasn't supposed to open it and she tried, would it be locked? Her mind buzzes in low anticipation of what to do next before the door opens slowly, and his brown eyes meet hers.

"What are you standing there for, hon?"

The term of endearment gets her wildly off guard, and she stutters, "S — sorry I wasn't sure —"

"S'fine. Come on in." He cuts her off, opening the door wider and beckoning her inside. The smell of burned greenery meets her nose and she realizes he'd been smoking.

His room is larger than she expected. The bed is pushed in the left back corner, a floor lamp settled by the foot of it. A desk is flush against the wall to her left as she walks in slowly, passing another door that she assumes is his bathroom. A large window is open, above his beside, and light blue shades move with the breeze.

"Sorry, got started a little early." He chuckles, jutting his chin out to point to the ash tray that sat atop the window sill. A thin-looking cigarette sat in the tray, a line of smoking airing from the tip.

Bucky must've noticed her unease, because he put his hands up in mock-defense. "Sorry, I just —" he pauses, taking a breath, "get nervous."

He moves around her, careful to avoid brushing against her before he stops in front of the window, lifting the cigarette from its resting place. He raises it to his lips, taking a deep drag, and holds his breath.

Glancing, he spies her watching him, and he grins, all teeth and wide eyes, looking so young, so...innocent. Smooth streams out between his teeth before he blows it out.

"I know what you're thinking, that weed can't get me high right?" he asks, raising his brows. "Well it can, it just takes a fuck ton."

Wanda laughs, placing a hand over her mouth. He shakes his head, a deep laugh reverberating from his chest. "Sorry, shouldn't curse in front of a lady." Leaning forward, he ashes the cigarette with a light tap.

"You always smoke in your room?" Wanda asks, glancing around nervously. Bucky shrugs, placing the cigarette back on the tray.

"Mostly unless I'm with Sam. His sister has a house on a lake; we smoke on the porch sometimes," he replies, "but only when her kids aren't around. Don't wanna set a worse example than I already do."

The unfortunate truth had slipped out easier than she would've thought, and Wanda watches as Bucky takes another hit. He sits at the foot of the bed, leaning back against the wall and window sill.

Realizing she's still standing in the entrance hall, he raises his brows. "Well, wanna start? You can sit there that way you can lean out the window to blow the smoke."

Wanda nods, inhaling as she crosses the room and sits on his bed, gingerly. "How much do I owe you?" she asks, and Bucky scoffs.

"Nada," he replies, and as she leans against the wall, he suddenly sits up, walking to his desk. "I nearly forgot. Here." When he returns, he holds out a brown-colored cigarette.

Wanda takes it gingerly, holding it between her thumb and middle finger. "I'll be honest," she says, letting out a breath. "I've never...smoked before."

"Really? Nothing? hm, so you're a mary, then?" he smirks

"Not a thing," she says, and he looks at her incredulously. "I just — never had the opportunity to, I guess."

Bucky stares at her hard, lips slipping between his teeth as if thoughtful, and Wanda has to tear her eyes away first.

"Why start now then?" he asks, voice gentle, more quiet than before. "It's not...the best habit."

Wanda internally sighs. She had hoped he wouldn't ask. Hoped he wouldn't prod because if he did, she might be honest.

She pauses for a moment, gathering her thoughts.

"I've heard it's good for sleeping. I could use some — some good sleep." She feels him staring at her, but she can't turn back to him, can't handle seeing what she knows is in those wicked eyes.

Pity.

Bucky clicks his teeth together. "Let's start with baby hits then?" His voice is calm, not as spastic as before, and Wanda turns to him, nodding. She brings the blunt to her mouth, holding it in place, and Bucky passes her a lighter. She lights the end, pulling the smoke into her chest but immediately feels her throat burn.

She panics, dry coughing loudly. Her eyes sting, and she immediately regrets thinking smoking week was a good idea. How did people do this? More importantly, why would they do it?

Beside her, Bucky's shoulders are shaking and a boyish laugh noise tumbling from his lips.

"Wanda, do not take this the wrong way," Bucky giggles, his eyes crinkle at the corners, "but that was absolute shit."

She coughs violently, her throat still foggy. "I've never — I can't even — why do you do this?" she shakes her head and scrunches her nose. "This — sucks!"

"That's because you did it wrong, princess," he quips, and she feels her cheeks warm. "You have to let it sit in your lungs for a bit."

Princess.

Princess.

He has her for a moment.

Wanda shakes her head violently. "I can't, it burns."

Bucky laughs again, the sound like deep velvet. He pats the spot between them. "Come here, and I'll show you."

Wanda swallows, but does as she's told. She moves to his side, knee brushing him.

"Okay now flip, so that you're facing the window and can blow the smoke right out," he says, a grin that is all him splitting his lips.

She obliges, turning so that her back is no longer supported, and her right knee brushes his hip. Bucky pushes forward from the wall, leaning slightly so that if she reaches out, he is less than an arm's length away.

"I'm just going to brace you, and you just follow my instructions, alright?" he murmurs, brown eyes watching her face. After Wanda gives a short nod, he gently places his palm on her back, and the other on her sternum, fingers curling over her shoulder.

"Okay, now try again."

Hesitantly, she takes a slow breath, throat already growing hot. Panic begins to bubble in her chest. She feels a cough coming on and her eyes grow wide, tears forming at the corners. Bucky gives her a smile, pressing down lightly, holding her still. He smells of weed and oak, with a type of floral that she can't pinpoint.

"Don't stop," he whispers, as if telling her a secret. "Good, hold it. Very good, good girl, now breathe out."

Good girl.

If she hadn't been so scared about burning her throat again she would've burst into a hot blush. Following his guidance, she blows the smoke out lightly, coughing a bit but not as terrible as before. She removes it from her mouth, and a laugh bubbles to the surface.

"That wasn't as bad," she giggles, and Bucky shrugs, dropping his hand from her torso with a light grin. She shifts, lowering her hand to her lap.

"Not bad at all. You'll be a rookie in no time," Bucky quips, settling back against the wall. Wanda studies the lazily smoking object in her hand, her criss crossed sitting position causing her knee to brush his hip whenever one of them moves.

"So, I thought tobacco was in cigarettes but... weed is an option too?" she asks, hoping that their ease of conversation will continue. Bucky gives her a look.

"You... cannot be serious," he says, and when she just stared, he shakes his head, twisting around towards the window sill. "This— " he says, grabbing his still-lit cigarette, "is called a blunt. Think of it as a mini cigarette, but yes, filled with weed instead of tobacco."

He lifts the blunt to his lips, taking a long drag, then releases it, craning his head up and out the window. As he moves, his shirt rides up, revealing tight cords hidden beneath tan skin.

It makes Wanda gulp, and tears her eyes away quickly.

"Where's Lillian?" she asks, looking around, looking anywhere but at the line of exposed skin.

Bucky leans back, shrugging again. "Probably hiding. She needs her space sometimes. Doesn't like strangers in our room."

"Oh, I — I'm sorry," Wanda replies, mentally cursing at her wobbly voice. "I can go."

Bucky waves his hand. "Nuh-uh. We're gonna keep taking baby hits until you can take one without coughing. Then next time we'll move onto bigger hits."

Wanda raises her brows. "Next time."

Taking another drag, Bucky looks at her through hazy eyes. "Yeah, if you want."

"I'd like that," Wanda says softly, raising the blunt to her lips, and pulling. "Only if you make me another one of these."

Bucky watches her with speculating eyes as she coughs lightly, exhaling the smoke with only a little trouble. He chuckles. "You mean roll. But yeah, you just gotta ask."

Wanda smiles, wiping her hand on the back of her mouth before ashing the blunt, mimicking his previous actions.

"You're on, Bucky."