Pleasure Remains the Same -Helmut Zemo(eventual winterbaron) x Reader

Continued 25

THE LAST DAY

"Wheres my bag?" Bucky asks sitting on the edge of the bed, clearly not in the mood for games. His only reply is the sound of the rain outside.

Of course it's raining. The damn weather thought it would be funny to make the day even more depressing than it already is.

Zemo sits on the chair at your dressing table sipping his tea looking far too calm and collected. "The black duffle?"

"Yeah, Helmut, the only one I have." Bucky shoots him a look.

You're standing in the doorway with your arms crossed just watching them.

"It's the one I came here with." He says inching towards real anger. When there's still no follow up answer, Bucky stops looking around and glares at Helmut. 

You on the other hand are simply suspicious. Something is up, you can practically taste it.

Zemo shrugs. "I'm sure Oeznik has put it with the rest of the luggage." He sips his tea.

"What? He knows I'm leaving today." Bucky says looking around as if the old man is hiding in the room just waiting to pop out and explain why he's suddenly hidden his bag.

You however are not interested in playing games. This day is already bleak enough. "All right Helmut, this would be funny if it weren't happening now. But it is, so stop. What's going on?" You ask walking towards him.

Zemo swings his gaze up at you and the look... it makes you pause mid step. Why are you smiling? It's a weak, uncertain smile that wavers and breaks quickly but you feel it. In that moment, you know that something has changed.

Call it intuition, but you find yourself wondering about that phone call.

*

"So start a new one."

"I've already started that life, Contessa. There's nothing you can offer that I don't already have." He glances up to find you looking at him. Helmut is drawn to you. He goes to the glass door, looks in at you sitting on the couch just a little sleepy, even a bit sweet in your t-shirt and socks with the dogs at your feet, and James —Bucky— is sprawled across the sofa next to you like the vision of perfection itself in his sweats and t-shirt. 

This is it. This is everything he'd planned for while in the raft, put into motion and coming together, just as he'd calculated so meticulously. Then why does it feel wrong? Was this not what he wanted? Yes, he has a life. But it's a life lived in pieces, connected by infrequent phone calls and worry over your safety while trying to make the most of a few days without any promise of when the next time will be.

How long could this really last? When will you both want more? Stability, true security, something other than running? Bucky is tired; you will be. Hell, maybe you'll find that peace with each other... Clearing your name would be a lot easier than the name of Helmut Zemo, and once it's done, you could leave for New York; lay low for a while. You'd wait until it's safe to come to visit of course, but when you do, you and Bucky will find him a lonely man with no one but his dogs — His dogs? 

"Jebiga," Zemo huffed, raking his fingers through his hair, tugging his head back to look up at the cloudless sky. He should have just stayed in the raft. And then, when he dropped his chin with another sigh, there was James, looking him in the eye from inside the den; those baby blues piercing his heart, and you, who will love him no matter what it seems, trying very hard not to look as concerned as you really are.   

"Fuck indeed, Baron Zemo." Valentina's knowledge of Sokovian foul language and her grating voice came through the phone with the light fluff of her laughter. "But don't worry. It seems you do have a way of getting everything you want."