"Stop it, you two. Bucky and I are friends. Don't even go there." I shook my head at them.
"Oh, come on Max! You know you have a thing for him!" The blonde teased.
"Had. I had a thing for him. Past tense. And that was, like, my sophomore year of h...
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Authors note Happy update! Enjoy a chapter from Buckys point of view.
Edited: authors note edited on 6/5 ________________________________
"Hey, Pal. I think you and I have a lot to talk about. Come on, let me make you a cup of coffee." Steve said, putting a hand on my shoulder.
I shook my head, watching as Pietro carried her up the stairs.
Watching as he comforted her the way I had done so many times before. Watching him carry her up towards a feeling of home that I was no longer able to give her. Watching him carry the girl that I have spent my entire god damn life being head over heals for, away from me.
Me.
James Buchanan Barnes.
The town heartbreak just living up to his name. I am officially the person that single-handedly just destroyed every ounce of trust in her body.
"No. No, I have to go talk to her. I have to try and talk to her Stevie." I swallowed thickly, shaking my head and never taking my eyes off of those damn stairs.
"No. You don't."
"Why not?! I have to fix this. I have to make it right." I said, only now realizing how much I was sobbing.
"You and I both know Pietro will kick your ass right now if you tried to go up to her."
"I can take him." I snarled through clenched teeth.
"Yea. You could kick his fucking ass ten ways to Sunday. But, do you really think that that would help you right now? Do you really think that's what Max wants to see after what you just did to her? You and I both know she needs some space. So, give it to her and come have a cup of coffee with me."
I couldn't move. I felt like I was made of stone. Cemented into the shitty linoleum tile under my feet as I stared at the stair case that I had seen a thousand times before this. The staircase I had ran up and down for my whole life. Suddenly, they looked impossible to climb. Daunting.
"Come on, Buck. Coffee is ready."
"Can it be Irish coffee?" I whispered.
"That's what got you into this mess, man. Don't go down that road." Steve sighed.
I hung my head and felt like my body was going to collapse in on itself. My feet started moving as the sound of Rory's door closing echoed through the silent hall and the shadows of Wanda and Pietro appeared on the walls.
I moved over to the kitchen table and fell into the closest seat that my body could find. Steve made his way to the table, placing a fresh cup of coffee in front of my face. Letting the steam hit my skin, creating small droplets of moisture to form.
The front door opened and slammed shut as the rubber toes of a pair of beat up converse appeared under my eyes.
