"Life is fifty wrong turns down a bumpy road. All you can hope is that you end up somewhere nice." - Punk 57
*I don't own any of the characters except the OCs.
Melanie Lovett was a former CIA Agent. She decided it wasn't in the cards for her to kee...
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A/N: They call me a masochist. Enjoy! 😂
TW: dub/con
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Two Days Later:
I opened the company car door, saying my thank you to the chauffeur. The Prussian blue building stared back at me in its beautiful glory. Housework's Bookstore & Cafe.
Yesterday, while perusing things to do in the city alone on my phone, I stumbled upon a bookstore in Soho. It was a beautiful independent bookstore that was staffed mostly by volunteers. So, I had to see it for myself.
"Hello, miss. How are you?" The kind lady at the entrance asked.
She handed me a brochure of everything they had in the store plus things they offered. They hosted weddings and events on the weekends.
"I'm good, thank you," I smiled at her kindly.
She motioned for me to walk in further. I look around the store. There was a spiraled staircase that led to the second floor. Though the store wasn't big, the amount of books that it contained was overwhelming in the best way.
From an outside view, everything seems cluttered. But not for me. The place felt more like an antique shop. Muddled, but if you looked close enough, you could find beautiful and rare writing pieces.
I step further inside, gliding my fingers through the myriad of books located on the shelves.
Bzzz.
I shoved my free hand into my pocket, taking out my phone. Bucky had left me various messages since his departure with the team. I only texted him when he texted first, only because I didn't want to be a distraction from whatever they were doing.
From: Bucky Hey sweetheart. We're coming back today. Probably in the next couple of hours. In the Quinjet now.
To: Bucky Okay. I should be at the tower by then.
I was so relieved to know that everyone was okay. Theoretically, since they could have physical injuries. I hoped Bucky came back unscathed, but the chances of that were slim.
I put my phone into my purse this time, removing any interference between me and the books in front of me. As I wrapped by hand around the binding on a book, I heard the shuffling of someone behind me.
"That's a good one, I hear."
My entire body took a screenshot. I gripped the book my hand was currently holding, as if it would save me from the last person I'd ever want to see again.
"Roman. To what do I owe the displeasure," I answered blandly.
