God, I hate You

-9-

here i was, arguing with tony who sat opposite me looking quite amused.
"i refuse to be his partner! i'd rather be partnered up with a spoon". i shouted, my patience running low. tony sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"y/n. you and him are both-" he began explaining. i chuckled harshly,
"-he's incapable of acting like an adult..and-and he's a terrible fighter and partner. the man literally refuses to accept any requests when we work together. he can't fight or shoot or do anything". i babbled, lying in most parts.
"nothing i can do, you heard fury. and anyway, both of you have a mission tomorrow so go train or do whatever you do" tony said waving his hand as a sign for me to get out. i got up, nearly knocking over my chair as i walked away. the majority of the things i said weren't exactly true, he could fight and he could use a gun. i just don't feel like working with someone who thinks that i'm a slut.

i walked into the training room, it was empty. no bucky, no steve, no nat, there was no one. i smiled to myself, pleased with the privacy i had. after wrapping my knuckles up, i walked over to the punching bag. i imagined that the bag was bucky and began punching away at it.
"that's for calling me a slut" i thought to myself, punching the bag harshly.
"that's for being a fucking dick", another punch.
"that's for bruising my neck" another.
"and that's for killing my sister", with that thought, i punched the bag as hard as i could, the bag flew off its chains and fell into the corner of the room, sand spilling out of it. the only sound in the room was my panting. my eyes stung with tears but i quickly wiped them away and told myself to wise up.

"what's up with you?" someone asked behind me. i turned around to see bucky standing there, a look of judgement on his face. he stared over at the broken punching bag and then back at me. i took a sip of water and nodded at him. when walking past bucky, i stared down at my sore knuckles, the fabric around it was worn away and there were small bloody cuts.
"uh..we have a mission tomorrow right?" he asked like a fucking idiot. i said nothing and walked past him, if he had apologised for last nights insult, maybe i would've replied. he audibly sighed behind me and i heard him picking up the punching bag which lay on the floor.

"ow ow ow" i whined as wanda cleaned up the cuts on my knuckles. her brows were pinched together as she dabbed at the cuts with a cotton bud.
"thanks wanda" i said the second she finished cleaning the cuts.
"what's wrong?" she asked, observing me slightly.
"nothing" i lied. she rolled her eyes and paused for a second before beginning to speak.
"you took your anger out on him during training" she said suddenly.
"yeah.." i admitted, she chewed her lip and nodded.
"as much as i'd like to chat, you have a mission tomorrow, so sleep" wanda chirped, she patted my back before walking out.