Winter's Bride

4. Hangover

*Y/C/N = Your cousin/best friend's name.

"No it did not go well" you said to Y/C/N, as you fumbled around with the key in your door. The extra double gin you had ordered after you'd been walked out on not helping the matter. "Anyway I'm home now" you announced, having called her during your walk back, alone. "I need both hands to get in the door, this damn lock is sticking still, I'll call you tomorrow, night" You put the phone into your coat pocket, the key hanging lopsidedly in the lock of the door before you began to jimmy it with both hands.

"Y/N?" his voice came from behind you causing you to jump. You flew around defensively, your heart hammering against your chest in shock, not expecting to be hearing anyone's voice, let alone his. His eyes were wide as he stared at you as you desperately tried to get in through your door, as though the scene was troubling to him somehow. Little did you know that it was. Bucky's mind swam with images of Yori's son as he frantically tried to get into his hotel room, his hand trembling so much at the sight of him, the sight of the Winter Soldier, he was unable to get the key into the lock fast enough, resulting in his death, a death that Bucky would now have to live with forever. He pulled himself out of his thoughts, realising that you were staring at him, fear etched onto your face as he seemingly glared vacantly at you but somehow right through you at the same time. "Do you need a hand?"

"No" you snapped abruptly, turning your back on him as you finally managed to click the lock into place and turn the key.

"Y/N I'm sorry" you heard him say, but you didn't want to listen, you wanted to cry. You said nothing, walked through your door and closed it behind you without looking back. Bucky sighed, before closing his too. After making sure you had locked the door behind you, you dumped your coat and bag on the back of the old, wooden dining chair and headed for your bedroom. Returning from it with any remnants of make-up stripped from your face and in your pyjamas. You made a beeline straight for your fridge, grabbing for the bottle of white wine that had lived in the door of it for the last couple of weeks. You weren't the biggest fan of white wine, but it had been bought for you for your birthday by one of the chefs at work, and here it was still, now into December. Taking the bottle and a glass from your cupboard you made your way over to where your sofa stood facing the slanted window, with black edged squares making up the glass panel, your Christmas tree stood at the left side of it, already starting to drop its needles. You couldn't afford one of the fancy ones that held onto them for ages. You cast your eyes over your sofa, a large red throw covering its beige fabric to hide the many stains that had accumulated there over the years. Setting the wine and glass down on to the wooden coffee table where you could find room you wrapped yourself in one of the many blankets you had strewn about the place. You collapsed into the chair with a sigh, you had fought back your tears this entire time but now there was no stopping them from flowing as you leant forward to pour yourself a very generous amount of the wine, once again feeling pathetic and worthless. You sat back nursing your glass as you flicked Netflix on, pressing play on a comedy series, something light-hearted for the most part, and funny, in an attempt to cheer you up. Never in your life had you been walked out on, on a date, but you supposed there was a first time for everything you sighed. "You don't half know how to pick them" you muttered to yourself before knocking back the rest of your glass.

You must have fallen asleep on the sofa because you had found yourself waking up on there after being disturbed by a heavy knocking on your door. The blanket you had wrapped yourself in had become tangled around your body, pulling your pyjama's uncomfortably in all sorts of directions. You had one arm hanging off the side of the sofa, which you now found to be completely dead. You heaved it up with the other as you sat up, your head banging so hard you felt as though your brain was about to break through your skull at any given moment. You groaned as you swizzled your legs off of the sofa, carrying your left arm with your right as a nauseous feeling churned in your stomach. This was why you didn't drink wine, you thought to yourself as you observed the empty bottle and the remnants of the stuff in your glass. You rose dizzily from the chair, your head still spinning, your mouth so dry your lips kept getting caught on your gums as you stumbled towards your door and slowly began to undo the locks, leaving the chain on as you pulled it open to reveal Y/C/N's concerned face through the small gap.

"Y/N, open this door right now" she demanded.

"I am, I am, what do you think I'm doing" you replied defensively as you closed the door again to undo the chain. She pushed it open as soon as she heard it drop.

"What the hell are you playing at?" she asked as she stormed in, closing the door angrily behind her. "I have been calling your ALL MORNING."

"Oh man" you groaned, already heading back to the sofa. She followed after you where she clocked the empty bottle of wine on the table.

"You don't even like wine" she said as she picked up the bottle and the mostly empty glass and took it back over to the kitchen, knowing that if you caught the smell of it you'd likely heave. "That bad huh?" she asked.

"Yup." you replied, laying back down on the sofa so your head was resting on the arm of it.

"Wanna talk about it?" she asked.

"Nope" you said again, as she sat down at the side of you. "Y/C/N?" you said.

"Yes?" she replied.

"Remind me to get our building key back off you" you snarked before burying your face into a nearby pillow. Instead of responding verbally, she picked up another cushion, hitting you across the back of your head with it. "Hey I have headache"

"Self-inflicted" she retorted. "Come on, get changed, we're getting breakfast, or should I say lunch seeing as though it's midday."

"I can't I feel sick" you moaned against the cushion.

"It'll make you feel better, I know I place that does actual English breakfasts, not with streaky bacon either, with back, or Canadian, I think that's what they call it, but it's the same thing. Come on, go sort yourself out" she said shoving you hard so you rolled off of the sofa and landed onto the rug on the wooden floor with a thud.

"Urgh" you groaned crawling some of the way towards your bedroom before forcing yourself to stand, stamping through your bedroom and into the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror and that made you want to cry all over again. You rubbed at the blotchy red skin on your face, before washing it with warm soapy water and brushing your teeth before drinking a pint of water from the glass you kept by the sink especially for times such as these. You raked the tangle teaser through the lengths of your hair, frizzing out your loose natural curls but you know they'd reform in a bit, especially when any moisture and the wind hit. Running your fingers through the front section of your hair you plaited it before pulling it back across the top of your head, looping it through another small pony tail and tightening it, your go to, easy, half up half down style that was your saviour on days like today. After quickly sorting your face with a light dusting of make-up, you pulled on a pair of black jeans, a thick, loose khaki coloured jumper and your brown lace up boots before venturing out back to Y/C/N who was busy tidying up the mess you had made on the sofa.

"There you go, you don't scrub up too badly" she teased, before grabbing your coat and bag from the back of your dining chair and tossing them over to you, your bad coordination allowing them to hit you in the stomach as you attempted to grab them making you wretch before you dropped them onto the floor completely. "Come on drama queen."