Secretive - Bucky Barnes

5 || Betrayed

[Nova]
Soon enough, the door in my front opens. I can barely look at it; today is a bright day, the sun shining like it was its first chance this year, happily spreading a few warmer rays across Earth's surface and my back. And since most part of the house of my parents is snow-white, it is no wonder my eyes barely can adjust.

When they do, they catch sight of my mother the second the smell of home crawls into my nose. I used to think of it as a sweet mixture of soap and bakery; my mum always had something like muffins to eat at home, but now, all my nose tastes is sour, even the common scent of brownies.

My mother herself looks as good as ever. She is just as healthy built as I remember her from four months ago when I came by for Christmas. Her dark brown hair is held up by a huge, black clasp on the back of her head, and her still tanned skin is wrinkled. Her eyes, always shades darker than mine, leave barely enough indications for where her pupils begin, and her irises end.

The moment she recognizes me, still wearing all black, hood drawn deep into my forehead and glasses covering my eyes – I hope they went back to normal by now; my sight has not -, that very moment a smile of heart cracks her face, making the skin next to her awoken eyes wrinkle. I am pulled into a hug before I can blink twice, but cannot help being unable to move.

Usually, I would give in immediately, wrapping my arms around her thin torso and pulling her tight. But I mean, who would not, having parents you always thought of were your safe haven? Parents you thought you loved, that had your back always and forever? Parents that would give their last breath to you if they could?

But that sentiment is gone now, puffed into the air and replaced by mistrust, so I stay rigid. My entire body stiff.

Mum does not seem to bother all too much. She simply leaves me standing there, her hands now gently grabbing my upper arms through the thick cloth, palms moving up and down in soft and caring strokes. »What a nice surprise, Nova. Wow.« she mouths stunned, eyes scrutinizing my body for the fraction of a second.

It is everything I need to know the videos and photos of paparazzi went viral.

»It's fine, mum. Really.« I resolve from her grip, pushing myself next to her into the house. Ignoring the icy tone of mine, which came up involuntarily, and was out before I could hide it. She probably knows now that there is something pretty wrong, and pretty not fine. Mothers have this kind of tingle about every single of their children. Mine knew I lost my virginity the second I entered the corridor that moment.

Nonetheless, she keeps her mood up. I do not wonder where I got my acting skills from; both my parents are pretty good at it. »Michael, come down! Look who's come!« she shouts in her deep tones, soon enough disappearing behind the door to my right; into the kitchen. 

From the left, there are footsteps erupting from above, my father marching down the white wooden planks one by one. When his read messy-curled head peaks through the gabs of the banister, his green eyes widen at my sight, the same smile my mother had. Quickly, he moves along the curve the staircase draws, and again, I find myself in a hug that I do not reciprocate.

It is the first time I ever feel uncomfortable, being at my parents'. Being in there arms that used to mean safety. And it feels strange. It feels so strange to come home, but it is not home anymore.

Sad. I realize I do not have a home currently. My flat burned down, my parents maybe lied to me my entire life, and Stark's Tower definitely is not something I would claim as a place making me feel welcome.

He, contrary to my mum, at least shows he gets that something's different. Problem is, he has the wrong idea why. Cupping my shoulders gently with his arms, his eyes search mine for wounds, not my body, through the sunglasses.