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In a dystopian universe, individuals cannot experience color until they meet their soulmate. Black and white is solely what familiarizes them. A burst of color explodes the world around them when facing their ki...
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Darkness. Falling with no end. Yet a ringing occurs, distant, barely there, but there. He gets closer to it, inspecting it. Oddly, it halts. Then beckoning rapidly. A bomb is active to blow.
Rather, a phone rings.
He awakens from his deep slumber in a cold sweat, "Hello?" He answers in a gruff voice.
"Buck, are you awake?"
He sighs, digits brushing at his eyes, "Yeah, what's up? How's Berlin?"
Steve wastes no time explaining his bump in the road, "I need you to take my wife somewhere safe."
His heart is rapidly beating, she is ruining him. All of this is her doing. The gruff old man is beginning to feel. "What's wrong?"
"Zemo's guys. They're after her again."
Bucky blanks. The pang in his heart resurfaces. It is eating at him. The emotional journey it has been, meeting her and letting her drag himself through the obstacles that have occurred between them. He feels as if he is falling again. "Why? What do they want?"
"I don't know..." Steve's breathing begins to go uneven, "But the guy sure knows how to pull a nerve."
His flesh hand begins to shake, similar to his life. Unstable. "Alright. We'll leave tomorrow morning." Bucky confirms.
"Take care of her, Buck."
He will. If his life depends on it, even if he needs his other personality to appear just to protect her. The one that he hides, behind scars and draining memories. Bucky is empty and exhausted.
"Pack your things, we're leaving." Bucky asserts when entering her humble abode, trying his best not to melt at her concerned gaze. "Zemo's guys, they're coming for you again."
Taken aback, her eyes nictitate, "Wait, what? What about Steve? We can't just leave like that."
He enters her bedroom—their bedroom. Glancing at the bed makes him nauseous. The thought of his touch on her, his breath, the entanglement of their bodies within the sheets. His jaw clenches at the thought, "don't worry, this is actually his plan."
"Bucky..." He looks up, his name sounding melodious against her lips. The supple lips that he fantasizes about. "Is this even a good idea? The two of us alone?"
He is sighing. Of course, it isn't. When I love you, but I shouldn't.
"Look, I'm trying my best to stay away from you. To not dream of you, to not think of you. But if something happens to you, I know it would kill me as much as it would kill Steve, so we have to go."
He acknowledges the perpetual pang in his chest furthermore. Simply being near her or thinking of her ruins him. As the days flow, he is losing himself to her.
author's note: this is literally so bad but i tried. this part was supposed to be up yesterday but wattpad and tumblr were being annoying ass cracks.
