The Winter Highlander || Bucky x Reader

Part 8

Note before reading:

I hope you guys will love this very revealing chapter. Again, that you for all the comments and love you guys have given to this story. Reading them really is the highlight of my day.

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The next three days were absolute and utter misery for four exact reasons. Firstly, it took most all of said days for your ankle to recover in such a way that you were finally able to walk normally again. Secondly, the realization that the way you felt about Bucky Barnes was what it felt like to really be in love, was wildly disconcerting and problematic as it forced you to conclude that you had almost married a man for which you hadn't felt anything close to what you were feeling right now. Thirdly, Bucky Barnes had crushed the slight sliver of hope in your heart that maybe, he could love you back. And finally; you were out of whisky. It felt like there wasn't enough alcohol in the world to numb the pain you were feeling.

So, you did the only logical thing a heartbroken runaway turned cafe owner could do; haphazzardly making phone calls to her dad and crying her heart out on the way to the only late-night supplier of alcohol in town.

Your father really was the one person in your family you would always entrust your feelings to; he was the person who had gotten his car at a moment's notice to drive you away from your own damn wedding. You felt good for having left Oliver, realizing that you had compensated on all the things he put you through for something that didn't even come close to love. But it also felt terrible as Oliver had spent years caring for you, making sure you didn't work yourself to death and that you cared for your body well.

Your father's voice was hushed, making you guess he was hiding outside in his woodshed to prevent your mother from knowing he was calling you. Your mother hadn't forgiven you yet for walking out on Oliver like that; like the previous years hadn't meant a thing to you.

"Just plain up ask him darling. He's a man and men don't respond well to subtle hints," your father commented as you crossed the road, so wrapped up in your own mind that you barely managed to notice that the sky was subtly spotted with snowflakes, the flakes slowly floating down to the pavement where they dissolved almost instantly.

"I think he already made things pretty clear dad."

"I'm just saying. Never assume a man has made anything clear when the words haven't very clearly come off his very own lips."

You huffed a bit; god you hated that about men. You had made it to The Fat Falcon and were standing outside, ready to move onto stage two of your plan. The actual drinking part. "Thanks dad. I'll think about it. I can't wait for you to come by around the new year," you said as the two of you wrapped up the conversation.

You remained standing still, your phone clutched in your hand as you watched the snowflakes lazily drop down onto your shoes. The streets were quiet except for the sounds of laughter coming from The Fat Falcon right behind you. You stayed like that until you heard the door open behind you, a pool of light shining over the dark street as you turned around to see Wanda standing in the doorway, an empty barrel of beer in her hands.

"Jesus fuck. You look like shite."

"I know. I need a drink."

"Fuck yes you do. Come in," Wanda replied seriously as she shooed you towards the bar like she was about to administer a lifesaving antidote to some deadly disease. As you climbed on top of a barstool, Wanda had already placed a glass filled with whisky in front of you. You grabbed it eagerly and drained it in a single go, the alcohol gloriously stinging your throat as you did.

"Who?" Wanda asked plainly as she refilled your glass immediately.

"Bucky," you replied shortly as you stopped yourself from finishing the new drink in one go too.