Oneshots - Bucky Barnes

This town

Groaning, I put the pillow into my face, pushing it down. Hoping it could stop the sun rays from falling into my eyes, illuminating my lids, as if I had a chance to continue sleeping. Not that it did any good; I could not sleep the whole night, sun or not. Or the night before. Or the night before that.

Inhaling deeply, it is almost like her perfume was still stuck on my rough sheets. I knew it was an insult to her silky-like skin, every night she chose to spend her time with me in here, but she never complained, not once. No, she would snuggle up between my left arm and my torso, resting her featherlight head on my chest, one arm around my stomach. We would wake up just like this; the way we fell asleep together, day, for day, for day, for day. I once wanted to start counting them in appreciation; give them a name in form of a number, give them more meaning. But only on the second day, I knew I had to start all over again, because my feelings increased over night in a tsunami-like wave coming crashing down on me with her sweet morning kisses on my skin; cheek, chin, jaw, neck.

And now she is gone.
Because I am a yuck.

It feels like it has only been yesterday when I saw her shadow dancing in one of my shirts through the small of my room. An imaginary melody chiming in her head, a faint song she would hum when she got that I was awake, pulling me out of bed to lead me into a waltz or anything alike. She has been crazily talented; no wonder, with all the teaching she received privately. But except from that, there was this fire inside her; sometimes roaring, sometimes just a flame to heat me up. She has always known how to make me laugh, how to make a situation great again when I was mad about one of my siblings, or events on the streets.

What I wonder about though, is, how she has not merely considered, but actually decided for me. She could have literally any boy in town at her side, still can, and she chose me. The poor kid with irregular teeth and the smallest amount of education possible from Brooklyn. Above them all.

If I only not have been such a coward.

She wanted to make it public. She gave a shit about her parents, about her friends, about her reputation. She wanted to present me with a suit of Prada and walk by my side to introduce me to her parents. To the world.

God, what I would give to make it happen now. What I would give to be at her side right now. If the whole world was watching, I would still dance with her right now.

But no. I have been stubborn. I ruined us. Only ever wanting to protect her, I did the most stupid thing imaginable. That argue that was about to break out made everything burst. I only ever wanted to keep her safe, to keep her and her angelic reputation that always precedes her - she is a [y/l/n] after all, her father the most famous banker in town, her mother the most famous singer - in the good kind of spotlight. What would the people say seeing her with a loser like me? Orphan, too many siblings to keep an eye on at once, living in the dirtiest part of this town. I would have ruined her with only grabbing her hand in public.

So, I told her this was no option. In no version I could declare our relationship publicly. Not that we ever went much further than kissing; she has been raised quite catholic, and it was a miracle she was eager to go to the second base. She barely had something to lose, concerning someone calling her a whore or anything alike; she kept her white pureness, I made sure of that. And at the same time, she had everything to lose, if because people probably would assume I made her pregnant, because there was no other why she would go for someone like me.

I told her to either leave the both of us a secret, or to leave right through that door, because I cannot give her more.

And she was gone in the next three seconds, heartbroken, tears all over her face like my personal torture preparing me for this hell I got myself into.