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DAY 32
Birthdays and anniversaries are always the hardest after someone dies.
Everyone talks about how devastating it is in the moment when someone passes away, the stages of grief one proceeds through, and how the entire world feels as though it has completely flipped upside down. That's exactly how it had felt for Honey when her parents and her younger brother disappeared that dismal day. When she witnessed it first hand, saw the way they called out for her as their bodies disintegrated into thin air, it was as though her chest had filled up with tar - heavy and lacking all oxygen. It was the single most heartbreaking moment she had ever experienced in her entire life.
The anniversary was even worse.
No one had prepared Honey for the pain that would feel as though it was racking through her entire soul, ten times greater than the day it had happened. Her bed and a few bottles of her favorite red wine had become her best friend for a week after the anniversary. The sadness was wholly crippling - she felt as though she couldn't move, couldn't feel anything at all.
And now it was Jeremy's birthday.
Her younger, sidekick of a brother would have turned fourteen years old today - undoubtedly asking for an unnecessary amount of ice cream and cash for the new bicycle he wanted to save up for that matched Honey's perfectly. Jeremy was practically her shadow, following her everywhere she allowed him to go and looking up to her as if she was the most magical human being on planet Earth. As much as his persistence would get on her nerves, the little dude was the only person Honey ever called her best friend.
Perhaps this was the reason for two empty bottles of wine on the kitchen table, a third one in the midst of being consumed, and her apartment being completely trashed as she tore through it like a category five tornado - ripping and smashing everything in her path.
The sound of her coffee mugs as they shattered inside of her kitchen sink was like music to Honey's ears. Anything to take her mind off of the way her heart felt as though it was being obliterated from the inside out.
Her head was spinning rather nauseously as she destroyed half of her kitchen, the wine creating a toxic buzz in her system that didn't mix very well with her heightened emotions. Honey's mind felt like a cesspool of stress and anger.
And to top it all of - like a cherry on a cake - three knocks sounded from her front door, making her whip her head frustratedly in its direction. Taking a long swig of her opened wine bottle, not caring enough to use a glass anymore, Honey stumbled over towards the white apartment door - swinging it open as she blew a few strands of her messy locks from her face. When Steve's face appeared in front of her, an obnoxious snort left her full lips as she swayed slightly.
"If you're here to talk about our deal, now is not a," hiccup. "Very good time, pal. I'm not sunshine and rainbows today."
Steve's blue eyes examined her appearance cautiously before they trailed down to the wine bottle in her fingers, his tongue flicking across his bottom lip as his eyebrows pulled together anxiously before his eyes met hers once more. His lips parted as if he were about to speak, but as he adjusted his footing, his eyes caught sight of the massive chaos that had erupted throughout her apartment - making his jaw drop instead.
"Honey, what the hell happened?"
As he walked swiftly inside, Honey staggered against the door from his abrupt movements, a giggle bursting through her lips as she struggled to maintain her balance. "I'm ... redecorating."
His head twisted to glance at the wine bottles on the table before cocking his head sideways in Honey's direction skeptically. "You're drunk."
"Oooo, we have a winner."
Steve let out an irritated sigh as he stomped his way back over towards Honey, yanking the wine bottle from her fingers which received a pout, before walking back to the kitchen table and setting it down with the rest of the empty bottles. Instead of lifting his head to narrow his eyes at her or say some sarcastic comment, like she had fully expected him to, his eyes stared down at the scattered family pictures along the table that Honey had flung everywhere.
As she watched him observe the photos, Honey clumsily pulled the apartment door shut as she pressed her back against it, facing Steve and the rest of her disastrous home. "I wanted to hate all of you just like the rest of the world when I lost my family, I wanted to hate you with every ounce of me, but I couldn't."
His jaw clenched, the muscles in his face tightening as he did so.
"No one deserves to have such a huge burden on their shoulders like that," Honey whispered faintly, the tears welling up inside of her eyes for the tenth time tonight. "I'm sorry that the world put such a giant burden on you."
Steve's head finally lifted as he stared incredulously at Honey, almost as if no one had ever said anything nice to him in his whole life. His hands rested on the table for a moment as he blinked slowly, her words undeniably processing through his brain. Taking his time, he approached Honey once more, hesitantly reaching out with his hand as he motioned towards the couch. "You should lay down."
Honey took his hand without hesitation, her drunken state of mind whirling in excitement at his touch, as he guided her calmly towards the comfort of the cream-colored sofa. Slightly pushing her shoulders down until she plopped down on the cushion, his hand tugged at her grasp to pull away, but her grip tightened as she peered up at him.
"Maybe we could talk about that deal," she mumbled quietly, pulling his hand lightly. "People use sex to mask their feelings, right? You probably do that, we could do that right now-"
"No," he interrupted firmly, taking a seat next to Honey on the couch as he rested his elbows on his knees, her hand slipping from his as he did so.
"But it's okay, I'm telling you I want to-"
"When I fuck you for the first time, you're going to want to remember it all."
Honey gulped loudly at his words, unable to hide the growing crimson on her cheeks as she ducked her head shyly, fiddling with her over-sized sweater.
"So, not tonight," Steve continued, grabbing the plush blanket draped over the back of the couch and handing it to her. "Get some rest."
She wondered if he wasn't saying much because he didn't want to talk about the subject of the blip or if it was the fact that he was guilt stricken over learning about her family. As she bundled up in the blanket, propping her head on one of the throw pillows, the last thing she remembered was watching him pick out the broken glass from her kitchen sink as sympathetic thoughts of Steve Rogers' burdens swirled through her intoxicated mind.
