The man with the gloves [bucky barnes ff]

6

Bucky's POV

"So it's you? I should've known.", she exclaims when I enter the small café. It's the girl from this morning.

"What?"

"It's you. You're the man with the gloves. Makes sense though. There aren't many freaks who walk around with leather gloves in august."

"I am not a freak."

"You kind of are. But it's fine. It makes you special. And interesting."

Did she just call me interesting? I had a long day and the last thing I want is to emerge in any conversation with some obnoxious girl who seems to be everywhere I go to.
I realise that I am being mean and rude but I really don't want to have anything to do with her or anyone else. It's not even anything personal against her.

I notice that she is still wearing that dress from this morning and that she didn't get changed when it started pouring. Her mistake for not checking the weather report.

"How do you guys know each other?", the waitress asks. She works here almost every day and from what I overheard she's the daughter of the owner of the café. I come here everyday. It's cheap, the food is good and it's close to my apartment. Also they usually don't ask any questions, just get my order ready and don't force me in any conversation. At least until now.

"He's my neighbour." The girl answers her and then turns her head around to look at me again. "Why do you always eat out? It's not healthy."

"Isla. Boundaries.", her friend arches her brows. I simply stand there and observe their interaction. "Excuse my cousin. Sometimes she doesn't know when she's being invasive."

The girl's face drops immediately and she lowers her glance in embarrassment. I take out a ten dollar bill from my pocket and place it on the counter in front of her. I've been here longer than planned already and it's starting to be suffocating.

"Not a talker, huh?" The blonde behind the counter asks as she puts the money in the register. Without looking at either of them a second time I take the bag and leave the café, hoping to be left alone. The streets are filled with young people who are dressed up and already a bit drunk. I observe them as they interact with each other which reminds me of old times of mine.

After a five minute walk I get to my apartment and unlock the door. I hate being here. The reason why I am always out and not in here all day is because I hate being alone. It's not like I meet up with people when I go out but at least I am surrounded by others and watching them is calming me and keeps me distracted. So even though I hate being with people I think I would hate it more if I was without them. My apartment is small. It's enough for me and I am used to living under conditions way worse than this but it's really suffocating. Maybe because I haven't decorated anything.

There isn't even a bed. I tried sleeping on one but it just doesn't feel right. I never had a warm bed to sleep in so it feels weird and wrong which is why I prefer sleeping on the floor. I leave the food on the table and go to the fridge. It's completely empty except for the alcohol. After popping one beer open I take a big sip and then sit down to eat.

When I unwrap everything I notice an extra box. I didn't order that. It's a pink cupcake with sprinkles and marshmallows on. I put it aside and continue to eat the rest of the food. It tastes good.

I found that café a few weeks ago when I was staying at a motel not far from here. I went there every day so it's become a habit. Going anywhere else feels wrong now. And going there at 10 every evening is part of my routine and the only thing that comes close to normality in my life at the moment. They tried to talk to me a couple of times but I usually ignore them or give short answers.
The owner is actually the one who found me this apartment. I once mentioned that I was staying at a motel and she offered to ask a friend of hers who owns an apartment complex. A few weeks later I moved in. She's a really friendly woman. Even though I never reply she keeps telling me about her life, her past and her daughter.

She's the closest to a friend I have. And even though I hate to admit it, I appreciate it. Makes life a little less miserable.

My phone vibrates and I take it out. Two missed calls from Sam Wilson. And a notification from a dating app. I know it's ridiculous and I don't even know why I did it in the first place. Maybe I thought that it was time to put me out there but it just doesn't feel right. I've been approached by quite a few women and men already but for some reason I just can't allow myself to build up a stronger relationship with either of them. It feels forced and staged. Besides - I don't think I am mentally and emotionally ready for a committed relationship or an affair. At least that's what my therapist says and I guess she's right.

I wouldn't want any woman to go through all this shit with me. I know for a fact that once she found out about my past self she'd leave me right away. Or the even worse scenario. I would hurt her in some way. Either way I'd get left and I am not ready to lose another person I care about. Not now. And I don't think ever.

I get thrown out of my thoughts when my phone rings again. Unknown number.

"Hello?", I answer it.

"Really?", the voice on the other side of the phone speaks. "All I have to do is call you from another number so you finally pick up?"

I groan and massage my head. I can't do this now. "What do you want, Sam?"

"I am checking up on you, man. You're ghosting me.", Sam says.

I realise that I am being mean and that all he wants to do is make sure I am fine but he reminds me of Steve and I don't want to be confronted with that.

"I am hanging up.", I inform him.

"Dude, what the fuck. Wait."

"Give me one reason." I should probably just hang up and block the number.

"You meant a lot to Steve."

"Exactly. I meant a lot to Steve. And not to you. I don't need you to check up on me just because you pity me and feel obligated to." Just because Steve gave him that shield doesn't mean he has the right to be involved in my life. He was Steve's friend. And not mine. He knows that and so do I. "I am not a fucking charity case."

"That's not why I am checking up on you, Buck."

"I told you to stop calling me that. And stop calling me in general." With those words said I hang up and turn off the phone. I hope he gets it this time and will finally leave me alone.

I start playing with the food on the table. I lost all my appetite but with all the exhausting physical work, the lack of sleep and the chaos in my head right now I really should be eating at least. Maybe it'll compensate it all.

Before I can even continue to eat the food again, I hear the laughter of some females in the hallways. It's probably the girl and that cousin. When they come closer and their voices become louder I am convinced it's actually them. I can't understand what exactly they are saying or laughing about. Right before I hear their doors closing they suddenly become silent and start whispering.

Girls.

After the door closes their voices disappear completely. I am left alone with my food again. When I am done I throw the packaging away and take the beer with me to the couch. I usually don't watch TV but I give it a try nevertheless.

I skip the news. I don't want to hear about all the bad going on in the world when I can barely cope with the things in my own life. There's a lot of nonsense in the TV. Talk shows where they talk about the newest relationship scandals, casting shows and for some reason an awful lot amount of animal documentaries. Why would someone voluntarily watch those?

I decide to watch a children's show instead. It's the only thing that somehow seems reasonable and not like complete nonsense.

A couple of beers and three episodes later I am slightly inebriated. Not enough to throw up but just enough to silence the noises in my head and finally go to bed. I take off my shirt and lay down on the floor and cover my body with the thin blanket.

I close my eyes. Hoping that I can at least sleep for a few hours before getting awakened by my nightmares. All I want is quiet. A few moments of quiet and peace.

Is that too much to ask for?