Oneshots - Bucky Barnes

Dress

Spoiler warning: Post Endgame, Post the Falcon and the Winter Soldier
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It should've been just another of the boring galas y/n's best friend dragged her to. She's single, not much of an extrovert, so y/n has to step in more often as her plus one on the invitation cards to guarantee the evening wouldn't turn into a full disaster than she wants to. Her best friend's career just starts to take a huge bow into the positive direction after a break of five years, and of course, a charity event of the new Captain America's is not something she should pass.

The only thing annoying y/n deeply is the disappearance of her company. She hasn't really looked forward to go anyways, this gala being one of the last gatherings she wanted to attend. It's not been that long since she got back from the blip, her best friend being full five years older now. Yes, it was a relief to know she is still there and waited for y/n, but else than before all the mess that terrored her world, y/n now really doesn't know anyone anymore. She feels left out, like she passed major events in her friend's life. She kind of feels like she can't trust anyone anymore, really, because she hasn't been there. Hasn't been there to watch the people of her life develop, can't say for sure who they're now or whether or not they're still the ones she left.

But more than that, she has no clue about nowadays's stars and starlets. No more of the photographers she used to talk to, no more of the celeb's family members, younger or older brother's and sisters she could spend the evening with as soon as her friend decides to go to the toilet and return an hour later because, of course, people tried to involve her into conversations.

Well, that'd be half a lie. She knew one person would definitely attend, which is the only reason y/n crawled out of her little hole today at all. Not that she has much hope he remembers her, remembers having a fling with her all these years back. She heard he blipped, too, but that doesn't has to mean anything. She knows, always knew she's walking on the blade's edge with falling for him. That she could lose him every second she touches him. It's not like they did it more than once or twice, but there's something to Sergeant Barnes that just hasn't left her, even after all that happened. It's like the Chimaira; once ignited, the flame hasn't ever extinguished. For her. Which is majorly why she doesn't show interest in anyone else ever since, not that anyone in her private life knew.

Of course, she couldn't tell her friends, her family. In general, it all happened by chance, and neither of them ever felt like it being something to spread word about. She doubts even Steve Rogers knew.

However, part of her hoped with fiery anticipation he would show up tonight. That's the only reason she's wearing it again; the royal blue dress in which he saw her for the first time a lot of months back. She didn't really think when she picked it; her friend told her of this evening just yesterday, and it was the first coming to her mind, didn't let her go anymore. According to her information, Bucky would show up, too. But she isn't that sure; she knows the grumpy brunette is rather impulsive, and spontaneously could decide to just try and sleep at home instead if he's not feeling like it or didn't promise Sam Wilson to join him.

Now, she feels rather silly. She's sitting at one of the round, white-clothed tables in the far back of the hall. Dark red reflects in every corner of the room, the curtains and the table decorations, flowers - all of them red like dawn. The stage on the other side of the hall is carpeted in blue, as is the lectern with a white bow wrapped around it. If this isn't America trying to make the world see and accept it's new Captain, she doesn't know what is.

Sighing, she takes another sip of the golden champagne, it prickling on her tongue almost like the anticipation with which her gaze is fixed on one of the two entrance doors. Each time it opens, her heart skips a beat, her breath hitches. And each time for new, deep disappointment settles in the pit of her stomach like a rock, weighing almost as heavy as her shame for even hoping he'd come, let alone recognize her.