Destructive- Bucky Barnes, 18+ story-

Chapter 15

The sun shined brightly through the blinds, lighting my room in its yellow hue. I groaned quietly, slowly opening my eyes. I laid on my back, tucked under the blankets and stared up at the ceiling. I had, for the first time in a couple weeks, slept the whole night without waking to my own nightmare, or Bucky's. That wasn't to say he hadn't woken to his own, I just didn't hear him this time, had he.

Finally ready to start the day, I pulled the blanket off of me, and went straight for the closet. I grabbed clothes, before I exchanged my pyjamas for them. I put on a pair of low rise jean capris, that had an even fold at the bottom. For my top, I grabbed a black sports bra to start, and put it in, opting for comfort. I grabbed my shirt, and walked out of my room, slipping it over my head as I did.

When I reached the living room, I was just pulling the shirt over my chest, and down my torso. It was a light blue baggy T-shirt. Once it was on fully, is when I noticed Bucky was up. He was in the kitchen, with a yellow bowl and whisk in his hands. He had paused and was staring at me. His eyes moved up, from down by my waist, to my eyes.

"Morning." I muttered, waving slightly. He nodded. "Whatcha making?" I asked, walking over, standing beside the table.

"Pancakes." He answered, his voice low and uninterested.

"I didn't know you could make pancakes." I commented. He focused back on the bowl, whisking away.

"I didn't either." He admitted. "I remembered the recipe this morning. My mom used to make them every Sunday." He explained. I smiled, proudly.

"You remembered that?" I asked, he nodded, glancing at me again.

"I ate a plum." He explained. I chuckled softly. I let him continue, while I went to the bathroom. After going pee, I stood in front of the mirror, taking my hair out of its braid. I ran my fingers through it, trying to tame it as much as I could without a brush. I then walked back out, and seen Bucky cooking the pancakes. I sat on one of the wooden chairs at the table, watching him.

"Need me to do anything?" I asked, he glanced at me, from over his shoulder, then shook his head.

"No." He answered simply. I nodded, and continued to watch him, feeling kind of awkward the more time went on. There wasn't much to do and I thought it was strange just staring at someone. I was saved by a knock at the door. Instinct took over and Bucky grabbed a kitchen knife. I got up, holding a hand towards him, then went to the door. My gun was in the bedroom, so I didn't have it.

I opened the door slowly, peaking through it to see Crina. I let out a soft sigh, before opening the door all the way. Crina was a 30 year old woman, with short orange hair and bright green eyes. She was about my heigh, and had a very pale complexion. Freckles littered her cheeks and nose, a few straying on her chin and forehead as well.

"Trace!" She exclaimed once she realized it was me that answered the door. I embraced her into a tight hug. Crina and I had met only 7 years prior, but were oddly close for never really spending time together. We talked a lot, when I was awake, but had only met once, before this.

"It's so good to see you Crina." I said, pulling out of the hug. She smiled at me.

"Likewise. I brought some more things with me." She said, nodding to the two women behind her, who had their hands full. I nodded, stepping out of the way to let them all in. The women with bags, put them down in the living room, then left the apartment.

"Thank you, I really appreciate this." I said to her. Unlike Emil, Crina spoke English. Though she had a heavy accent, I could still understand her.

"Anything for you." She assured me. "Those bags have toiletries, and a few more panties items. Also a couple more journals, after your request last night and a pack of playing cards. The girls are bringing up the big thing." She explained. When Crina mentioned the extra journals I'd asked for, Bucky looked over at us.