Hate to love you

Chapter 6

Living with Bucky now was starkly different from how it was before in many ways.

Whether it was the change in residence from your shared one bedroom shitty flat to his penthouse apartment, courtesy of being a successful CEO, or if it was Bucky’s personality itself, you weren’t complaining. If you could describe the change in one word, you would say it was serene.

Bucky had always had a big mouth back in the day, and even though it was his sharp tongue and quick wit that had attracted you to him initially, it was those same traits that had cause your relationship to slowly crumble overtime. He did not have a filter for when he spoke, and eventually, one fateful night the alcohol had given him enough courage to spill poison brewing in his mind without the slightest inhibition.

And you were too destroyed to take it.

You remembered it, clear as day, when he had stumbled into the apartment, alcohol on his breath and movements jerky. He had been a mess, and when you questioned him about it, he hadn’t held back.

It had been word vomit, mostly. You were aware of that. Bucky had way too much on his plate with struggling in his studies and working a job as an intern. But it didn’t soften the sting of insults he had let loose. It was like having every single one of your insecurities thrown in your face as reasons that the love of your life didn’t want to be with you. That, mixed with wild accusations that you both knew to be untrue, and you had had enough. So while Bucky threw up in the bathroom, you had snuck out as quiet as a mouse, unable to face him before you left.

It hadn’t been a wise decision, but you were too broken to care.

He couldn’t call or text you, considering you had thrown your phone away in favor of a new one. He had even shown up at your friend’s place where you had decided to crash for the time being, begging to see you and ask you why you left. You had blatantly refused. Maybe you should have given him a chance to explain his alcoholic outburst. Maybe things would have worked out. But deep inside, you knew a part of you didn’t want things to work out. You knew how the cycle went. You would be okay for a few weeks before another huge fight would happen, and you didn’t have the energy to go through that. You were completely drained.

You thought of that Bucky, and as you sat on the couch opposite to him now, eyeing him over your book discreetly, you thought of the present. You watched Bucky’s lips move as his calm grey eyes ran over the lit screen before him. His fingers moved over the keys of the laptop, making soft but audible click click click noises in the silence of the living room. His hair was tied up behind him in a tiny bun, a few tendrils hanging loosely to frame his face. He was in sweats again, legs crossed and a thin blanket draped over them.

“You’re staring.” You blinked at the words, feeling heat rush to your face when you pointedly looked down at your book again. A glance at Bucky showed that he had a smirk playing on his lips. You bit the inside of your cheek. Fuck. You didn’t want to be caught.

You didn’t bother replying to him, instead shifting and clearing your throat before glaring at the book before you. You hadn’t gone farther than two pages since you had sat down half an hour ago, but you had been distracted.

Nights weren’t spent at the hospital anymore to try and avoid Bucky. Even though situations were still awkward at times, you two had still fallen in an almost regular rhythm. You weren’t exactly having deep conversations about the meaning of life, but at least you could breathe the same air as him without feeling like you were suffocating.