1476 {Bucky x reader}

31

"So I was thinking," Wanda begins, "we could get our nails done. And your..." She looks at my hands—the skin was cracked mostly in places where I would hold onto things to climb, and using weights in the gym didn't help the growing calluses either. "You could do with some pampering." She smiles when I examine my hand; even my nails looked awful, they were chipped and uneven from my desperate biting to keep them short. I was an assassin, not a princess.

"You have already spoilt me enough with these clothes and food," I hold up the many bags pinching my wrists and the cardboard cup with a straw sticking out that I was sipping on. "I think I have been pampered enough. Not that I'm not grateful!" I widen my eyes but Wanda laughs at me.

"We have one more stop after the nail salon, I don't want your broken skin snagging on any delicate fabric while we're there." She lifts her chin and begins walking ahead of me, I let the muscles in my face go slack as I follow. What did she have planned?

"Where exactly are we going?" I stumble behind her as she moves swiftly through the gathering crowds, some looked at us—her—with awe, and some turned in fear; just a few snarled or muttered unpleasant things under their breath.

"Don't worry about it. All you need to do is just relax and let me handle everything." She puts her hand on the back of my shoulder when I catch up to her.

"You've already done so much, paid for everything-"

She cuts me off as we get to the entrance of a store which I believe is the 'nail salon'. "And what do you think you're going to do?" She raises a brow. "Pay for all of this with your money?" She smiles with amusement. I pinch my lips together and look away from her.

"I don't have money," I mumble.

"Exactly." She tilts her head and continues. "So stop trying to take control of everything and let your mind rest. We're here for a good time, a distraction. You've been through a lot and you need this."

"It was just Sceinyte." I roll my eyes playfully.

Then there was silence, and I looked around at the people gawking at Wanda, the Witch who saved them all, the girl from the Avengers. There was still so much about her that I didn't know, such as why some people adored her and others detested her. Her face was flat, but there was sadness pulling on her features.

"I am sorry. I will leave it be, thank you for your kindness." I lower my head in defeat and let her tower over me by a mere inch.

As she turns for the store, a long sigh escapes her nose. I must have said something to offend her; she was only trying to make me happy. But to say I've been through a lot? I couldn't agree less. Everyone at the compound has said something along those lines, pushing me to rest and take care of myself, as well as keep an eye out for any side effects from the Sceinyte. But I'm ready to be my old self again. It didn't kill me, and it didn't paralyse me... I was able to fend it off and remain strong. They must believe that I am fragile and that I could break at any moment—which could be true; I certainly came close the other day. But, I am a fighter. I've grown to be that way since the day my father and brothers died, since the day I finally became an assassin and a known and respected member of my brotherhood. I don't give up easily, and Ivo isn't going to be the one to break my streak. I've been trained to deal with pain and illness in order to carry out my responsibilities, and that won't change today or any other day. Wanda, Bucky, Sam, Bruce... they might all think I'm a delicate antique from the fifteenth century. But I am the polar opposite. They may not know how to combat this poison with their technology, but I am the one fighting it physically, who has it swimming in my veins and blood, and I am the one who knows my limitations and strengths.

Nobody will ever change that about me. Today, I'm going to let Wanda have her fun; I know it's not just for me, and she needs the distraction, herself. But, after all of this, I'm going to take the lead. I want Ivo gone, and his Sceinyte experiment to be over with. And I want to see him bleed out in front of me, by me—by my hand, I will slice his throat open and watch his thick blood run over his garments, spraying over mine and staining the white fabric as a symbol of my victory.