The man with the gloves [bucky barnes ff]

15

This day was great. Everything about it was perfect. When I woke up, I wasn't tired for the first time in forever. I got ready, the subway was punctual which is more than rare, I signed up for all the classes I wanted and got accepted. We even got our first assignment which I love and I know that it'll definitely get worse and the assignments will become harder in the upcoming lessons but as for right now I am more than pleased.

I've been more than productive the last few days in general. I'd usually be stressed out about finishing my assignment, going to work and then having to do bunch of other things as well but since I worked through my to-do list, I am pretty chill.

After my classes, I did a four hour shift in the diner because aunt Dana called in sick and needed someone to fill in for her. I went to my apartment straight after my shift and ordered some takeout. Whilst eating I've been trying to finish my assignment; emphasis on the 'trying'. Because someone is knocking against someone's door for what feels like an eternity. And I tried to ignore it, even wore headphone and put music on, but the walls are thin like paper.

I groan, head towards my door and open it. I spot the obnoxious stranger in the hallway.

"Can I help you?", I ask the man who's been knocking at James' door for about five minutes now.

"Sorry. Did I knock too loud?"

"Depends. Do you consider hearing it even with headphones on and music blasting through them loud?", I joke. He laughs and leans against his door. Is he a friend of his? I doubt James has friends though.

"Do you know if Bucky is out? Or is he just ignoring me?"

"Bucky? Do you mean James?", I ask. Is that like his nickname? Bucky. Bucky. It sounds cute. "He's never home before ten so no, he's probably not ignoring you. Is there anything specific I can perhaps help with?"

He nods understandingly. "No, I just wanted to check up on him."

"Oh, so you're his friend?" The thought of James being friends with someone is so obscure and weird, I can't imagine it. I mean sure, I've been getting along with him well but I still wouldn't go that far and consider him a friend and I am more than certain that he would neither.

He shakes his head. "We are... old acquaintances. Work partners, if you will."

Makes more sense.

"Are you a friend of his?", he questions me and I burst out in immediate laughter.

"I don't think James is the type of person that has friends.", I reply.

He looks down for a second. "For someone who isn't friends with him you know weirdly a lot about him."

"Well, we are neighbours. And I am a really curious person." I lean against my door frame and turn my head to the right when a woman comes out of the elevator. She's a neighbour from downstairs.

"Could you please not talk in the hallways? Some people are trying to sleep.", she hisses at us and immediately leaves again before we can reply.

"Who the fuck sleeps at 9:30?", I murmur to myself. "I am Isla, by the way."

"Sam. Sam Wilson.", he replies with a smile, shaking my hand.

"How I already said: he won't be home before ten and I think that if we talk out here any longer we'll get executed by that brat before he's back. Do you want to wait in my apartment?" Maybe it's not the smartest move to invite a literal stranger in my home but for some reason I feel like I can trust him. Also he looks kind of familiar but I just can't remember where I know him from. Or maybe I am just reading too much into it and he just looks like someone else I know.