Welcome to the Neighbourhood

Chapter 15

The knock on the door came exactly fifty seven minutes after Dylan and Bucky had spoken at the bookstore. Bucky had been pacing up and down his apartment, anxiety tightening every muscle in his body. He wasn't sure what he was going to say exactly, despite knowing what he wanted and how he felt. Seeing clearly for the first time in a long time.

He opened the door and there stood Dylan, smiling shyly, half buzzed on a couple of glasses of red wine they'd given her at the bookstore. He felt a surge of warmth swell through him at seeing her, standing at his front door again like the old days. It had been so long.

Dylan felt the same way about seeing Bucky here again. Although his apartment was the scene of their break up, in that moment she could only think about the good times they'd shared there. Wrapped up in his bedsheets...falling asleep safely clasped against him in front of the TV...that day early on where he'd tended to her bleeding knee, delicately cupping her shin as he unrolled the bandage.

"Hey" she said timidly.

"Hey" he replied monotonously. "Come on in".

She wandered inside. Everything looked exactly as it did when she last left it, which she found strangely comforting. Her nerves overcame her and she was in no mood to drag out whatever this was, the anticipation of whatever he wanted to say chewed away at her gut. She leaned against the kitchen counter and turned to face him.

"So what did you want to talk about?" she asked coyly, her words soaked with apprehension.

"Uh...yeah. Well..." he cleared his throat awkwardly. He lifted his copy of her book up in his hand.

"This is me, right?" he asked, waving the book back and forth.

Dylan swallowed. "Uh...yes. I'm sorry. Rusty came from you. I should have asked or warned you. It just sort of...happened. We were together when I was writing it and I guess you sort of...bled into him" she admitted sheepishly.

"I was going to tell you before the book came out...but then we...you know" she gestured her hands.

It was true. She wasn't even sure when Rusty became Bucky exactly. It was gradual at first but then eventually she was reading her draft back and realised he hadn't grown entirely from her imagination. Bucky had crept into her life and uprooted it, so of course parts of him had slipped into her work too.

Bucky shook his head. "I don't mind at all, Dyl. But Rusty is sorta...an asshole..." he smirked.

Dylan returned his smirk. "Well...art imitates life" she deadpanned.

"They do say write what you know" he quipped.

They smiled at one another for a moment and some of the tension in the room seemed to drain away. This back and forth was familiar territory to them, comfortable ground.

"It's really great" he told her sincerely. "You deserve all of your success".

"Thanks Buck" she said shyly, his gaze was so intense that she couldn't keep it, dropping her eyeline to the floorboards instead.

"I'm sorry Dyl" he suddenly blurted out.

She looked back up at him, he had had dropped his head – his hand scratching the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable.

"For everything. For what I said. How I ended things...all of it" he mumbled.

"I'm sorry too" she said gently.

"You don't have to be sorry" he told her sternly. He started to pace across the apartment as if the movement was powering up his words.

"Look...Dyl...I know I made a mistake. And I was fine to leave it be as I assumed you'd moved on and I didn't want to re-open old wounds but...I read your dedication and the book...and I had to take a chance..." he was stammering, getting the words out as quickly as he thought of them.