Secretive - Bucky Barnes

26 || Bumblebee

[Nova]
»No, mum. I don't know if he's coming with me during Easter break.«

It is the hundredth time she asks me to bring James, to let her, dad and Jonas finally meet him. And every single time, I have to tell her the same; that I do not be aware of James's plans yet, just to avoid hitting her with his may-or-may-not social phobia. 

»You always tell us so much about him. Didn't you say his family was dead? It probably would be nice for him to be greeted warmly, and belonging somewhere on holidays.«

I thought about that, too. James has to feel lonely at times; he actually does, sometimes calling me at midnight when he is not around just to hear my voice and calm him down. He tends to nightmares, not telling me the entirety of it, to be honest, not even glimpses, but I am pleased enough when I hear his heavy breathing calming down. Whatever happened in his life before me must have been grave enough to chase away the poor man's dreams.

But on the other hand, he seems content with his life when he is around, like his family is long gone and he barely can remember the way they died.

»He's special, you know that!« I hear my dad scream in the background, mocking me. His sympathy for my boyfriend does not seem to grow the longer he did not face him.

»Look, I'm going to ask him. But you should not push it. He's... yes, actually, he is special in some manners.« I say, parking the car in Stark's garage. Again, I feel small in my still damaged old banger next to the owner's luxury museum of cars, but I started to ignore it long ago. Besides: I need a car to drive me from A to B, and I cannot drive more than one at a time anyways, so what is the point? It scares the shit out of me to know I am heard all the time with everything I say, like I did when picking Peter up. There is no point in spending so much money for it.

»You need to tell me his favourite food, then. We want to make a good expression.« It almost sounds like she already his sure of James's companion.

»We'll see about that. Have a nice day, mum, dad.« And without another word, I hang up the phone, leaning back on my seat and breathing in slowly whilst closing my eyes.

I would love for James to come, but he is so introvert. The exact opposite of what my family is. It would be lovely anyways, to see him getting along with them, to see him and my brother fighting over little things or joking around, how father would examine but love him, because, how can someone do something else? Before I step out of the car, I force myself to text him whether he wanted to join me on my trip to Germany in six weeks, just to avoid me changing my decision. He has long enough to make up his mind, and I have long enough to convince him to come.

I do not even be able to open the door, when my phone starts ringing again. Luckily, I am –as always- ten minutes early, so I do not see why I should not pick it up.

»'s that why you're so awkward during the last couple weeks?« His voice sounds raspy, like just woken up; the fact he does not greet me underlines this hypothesis. And nevertheless, my heart begins to warm, spreading it all through my body. His voice always affects me, no matter how grumpy.

What I like about James is that he is in a lot of matters just like me. For example, now: rather clearing things up fast and direct via telephone, than waiting for hours to receive a response via text message. 

By the way, it makes me nervous he got that I was kind of burdened with my parents stressing around to bring him. He should not have recognized it in the slightest. Damn it.

»I'm not awkward.«

»Yes, you are. I thought perhaps you'd come to me by yourself, but obviously, you don't.« Can boys get moody all four weeks as well? He seems very pissed for this early hour. »Don't you think I see the way you watch holes into the ceiling? That you have difficulties to rest next to me more and more each night, if only a bit? You don't even read as much as I am used to. Talk to me, Liebling. You know you can trust me and have my full support, in whatever.«