Buried Knives (A Bucky Barnes enemies to lovers story)

Part 15: Complications

They traipsed through the rain for what felt like hours.

Stray drops made their way past the collar of Bucky's jacket, trailing down his spine.

Although the on and off rain threatened to blind him with its intensity, his eyes remained focused on her.

She was so complicated.

Up ahead her icy colored head bobbed with each unsteady step. A few times she'd stumbled, barely avoiding hitting the floor.

And yet she refused any attempts he made to help her. Any hand offered, any warnings.

Growling at him like a rabid creature instead.

And he'd be lying if he said it didn't scare him, consern him.

How quickly she could go from happily chatting to throwing up her guts on the side if the road. He didn't miss the slight tremor in her hands. The flush on her cheeks.

Something was wrong. Seriously wrong.

He just had to figure out what.

☆

"I've called the dry cleaners, they said our stuff will be ready in two hours or so."

She just sat there on the bed. Silently looking ahead. Wrapped in an oversized hotel dressing gown. Ratty hair trailing down her back. Knees pulled up to her chin and arms wrapped around those.

She'd been like that for nearly and hour.

He took a step towards the small, out of date phone by the door. Running his hands through his damp hair and sighing.

It had been the first inn they saw upon stumbling by a small town, just on the edge of the Austrian border. The sheets on the narrow beds were soft from overwashing, the floorboards creaky. The whole room accented in shades of aging blue.

Vaguely he wondered when it was last redecorated, maybe the curtains were as old as him?

He picked up the neat stack of menus by the phone, flicking through. "I was going to order room service. Do you want anything?"

He looked up. She continued staring straight ahead.

He rolled his eyes, tucking the phone between his shoulder and ear as he dialed. "I'm ordering you a burger."

No response.

After a few clangy rings a female voice picked up. Greeting him in Italian.

"Eh... Ciao."

She mumbled something to quick and accented for him to understand.

He fumbled quickly through the small, rain damp pocket Italian dictionary. "Vor..
Vorrei.... de... del... cibo. No." He grumbled under his breath, running a freehand through his hair. "Vorrei...."

"Vorrei ordinare." Alex mumbled

He looked up.

Alex met his eyes before looking back at the blank TV screen. As if she hadn't even moved.

"Vorrei ordinare...del cibo per.... la camera." He winced.

"Servizio in camera?"

"Em..." He looked over at Alex.

She sighed,"You want room service?"

He looked at her, puzzled. Then,"Oh yes. Sí sí." He said into the phone. Gripping the cheap plastic as Alex rolled her eyes, mumbling something in Italian before falling still.