Saved - A Bucky Barnes love story

The market

Sometime in the morning, after a few restless hours of sleep, you wake up, still lying on the floor. Your whole body hurts, unfortunately you are used to the pain by now. Slowly, so as not to aggravate the pain, you get up and drag yourself to the bathroom. You undress and take a shower. For a while you just stand there and let the warm water run over your body. Your thoughts are interrupted by flashbacks of the nightly abuse. You only realize that you started to cry when you start to sniff. For a while you just stand in the shower and cry. When your skin begins to shrivel you turn off the water and wrap yourself in a towel. You wipe the steamed up mirror with a cloth and you are shocked at the sight of yourself, even if it is actually not new. As every time, you are disgusted by the sight of yourself. Your left eye has a dark bruise around it. Smaller bruises spread over the rest of your face and shoulders. The right side of your body is one big bruise and you can see prints on your wrists where Brock held you. You open the closet next to the mirror and pick up a can of painkillers. You take out two pills, fill a cup with water, and swallow the medication in the hopes of relieving the pain. You know from experience that it will now take about fifteen minutes for you to feel better. Since you have a few things to do before you have to go back to work in the evening, you hope that the effects will actually come on quickly and last for a long time. After you've swallowed the pills you blow-dry your hair and go to your bedroom. You slip back into black jeans, different from yesterday, and put on a dark green flannel shirt. Then you go back to the bathroom and cover your face with a thick layer of makeup so that nobody can see the bruises so clearly. Then you grab your handbag and head towards the city center. While you are doing various errands you keep thinking back to last night and really have to fight to keep your composure. Like every time, part of you screams to leave Brock. This rational thinking part is afraid of what he might do to you at some point. That part is afraid of the day when it won't be enough for him to just beat you up. But then there is your other side. The side that is afraid of being alone. The fear of losing your financial support and ending up on the street. And after all, he loves you, doesn't he? You have now arrived on the urban market. You are standing at a stand where there are fresh fruit and vegetables when you hear a voice that you instantly recognize. Your heart skips when you hear this voice and you immediately get nervous. "Hey, you're the waitress from the pub, aren't you?" you turn around and see the man with the leather jacket from yesterday standing in front of you. He's wearing jeans, a burgundy shirt and over it the leather jacket that you already know from yesterday. He smiles brightly at you. You can't remember when anyone has ever looked at you like that. Did Brock ever smile at you seriously? You smile back nervously, hoping that you've covered up the bruises well enough. "And you're the cheeseburger guy. Are you chasing me?" you bring out quietly, laugh nervously and can hardly look him in the eye. "No, don't worry. I don't live far from here and I always come here to shop. You have to try the plums they sell here. These are the best I've ever tasted" while he talks you can't help it, you have to look at him. You don't know why, but again you compare him to Brock. He looks so nice and easy going. He talks and smiles every now and then and you relax a bit. You can't remember when you had a real conversation with Brock. Actually he just grumbles at you and tells you what to do and what not to do. You notice that you know absolutely nothing about Brock. Does Brock like plums? Would he be happy if you buy some? "Are you okay? You look kind of worried," the leather jacket's voice tears you out of your thoughts. You just look at him without saying anything. "Um .. would you like to have a coffee somewhere or something?" Leather jacket scratches the back of his head nervously. The sudden invitation surprises you. You are so paranoid now that you immediately think that this could be Brock's trap. That he wants to test you. After all, one of his most sacred rules is that you have to stay away from other men. You notice how your hands start to sweat and how nervous your heartbeat accelerates. "Um ... no thanks ... I still have a lot to do. I really have to go on then," you say and turn around to leave. You are about to leave when you feel a hand gently close around your wrist. Although the touch is almost as gentle as a feather, it hurts. Although the painkillers work, the bruises are extremely painful when you touch them. In one violent movement, you withdraw your wrist from the touch and hide your hands behind your back. "Don't touch me," you utter fearfully. What are you doing here? You ask yourself. You shouldn't give anyone a reason to ask questions! But reacting like you just did raises questions. "I'm sorry. Is everything okay? Did I hurt you?" You can hear how the previous joy has disappeared from his voice. You look him in the face for a moment. The look on his face immediately makes you feel guilty. He looks totally bent. You are totally overwhelmed with the situation and the emotional chaos inside you. "I ... I have to go. Bye". You go away without looking back again. Actually, you're almost running. When you get home, you drop your bags on the front door, run into the bedroom and throw yourself on your bed. There you bury your face in your pillow and start crying uncontrollably. To be honest, you don't even know why you are crying. Is it because you are afraid that Brock will find out that your behavior caused someone to ask questions? Or are you crying because you are just realizing that there are people out there who see more in you than a doormat? Who are just nice and polite? Could it be that there is something else out there other than what you have with Brock? You hear the voice of leather jacket in your ear. "Did I hurt you?". Brock never cares how you are. Most of the time it is also obvious that you are not feeling well. You remember how crinkled he looked before you left. That just makes you cry even more. At some point your crying will be interrupted by your cell phone alarm clock. The signal that it is time to get ready for work. You wipe away your tears and sit up. In the bathroom you put another layer of makeup on because you have the feeling that you can see the bruises again. Then you go to your closet and swap the flannel shirt for a simple black long-sleeved sweatshirt. You tie your hair in a ponytail before you walk to work. You can't get the mysterious man in the leather jacket out of your head all the way.