"May I have this dance, m'lady?" His voice was smooth, the words spoken with a playful edge that made her smile involuntarily, despite the weight of everything that had been left unsaid between them.
"Only if you promise never to call me that again." Rhiley's words slipped from her scarlet lips, as sharp as they were playful, her eyes lingering on him with a look that could pierce right through him. She was like red wine spilled on a white carpet—impossible to ignore, leaving a stain that would never quite fade. "What took you so long?" she added, the edge of impatience veiled beneath a façade of teasing.
"Traffic," he replied, his smile not just a reaction but something contagious—something that somehow softened the weight of the air around them.
Rhiley locked eyes with him, her gaze unwavering, her heart beating an erratic rhythm in her chest. "If only we had flying cars," he joked, his hands buried in the pockets of his freshly pressed military uniform, but his body language gave away more than his words. He wanted his hands somewhere else, somewhere closer.
Rhiley's lips curled in a faint smile, despite the unease that had been coiling in her chest. "What can I say? My brother's a perfectionist."
"So are you," he responded, stepping closer, his eyes searching hers.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, brows furrowing in confusion, even as she couldn't deny the strange warmth that grew between them.
"Have you looked in the mirror lately?"
There it was again, the way he saw her. The way he knew her better than anyone else could. Despite the hardened shell she'd built, despite all the walls, Rhiley knew he was right. She was a perfectionist, too. Always striving, always trying to control the world around her. But something in him—something she had never fully allowed herself to confront—had started to slip through the cracks she hadn't realized she'd left open.
His words lingered in the space between them, but before Rhiley could process them, he stepped forward and gently tugged her into his arms. His hand found hers, pinky to pinky, and for a moment, the world shifted. She felt his warmth, his presence, pulling her in like gravity itself.
She hesitated, her mind racing, torn between the fear of what was coming and the undeniable pull to stay.
"What changed your mind?" His voice was quiet, and she realized just how foreign the question sounded coming from him. He was looking at her, waiting for an answer that seemed to exist somewhere beyond words.
Rhiley opened her mouth, but the words wouldn't come. She wanted to say something—anything—to explain the chaos inside her, but there was no clear explanation, no simple answer.
Instead, she whispered, "I—"
But before she could finish, he pulled her into the crowd, and the moment slipped from her fingers.
For a second, it was all just noise and movement. The music swirled around them, the cheers of men and women celebrating the war's end, a victory that felt so surreal she couldn't quite grasp it. People danced, arms flailing, faces lit with smiles, but for Rhiley, it felt distant. Like she wasn't there. Like she was floating, disconnected from the celebration surrounding her.
"Wait, James—" she tried to call out, but her hand slipped from his, her voice lost in the sea of people. Her steps faltered, uncertainty taking root in her chest. Her heart thudded painfully as though it could feel the weight of what she was losing.
And then, just like that, the world around her blurred. The voices faded, and the laughter dimmed. The crowd began to thin, each person vanishing into the shadows, until all that was left was Rhiley, standing alone, staring at a stage with a solitary car, and her brother.
"Howard?" Her voice broke the silence, a ripple of panic beneath it. There was relief too—relief that at least, for a moment, there was something familiar, something solid. But it was fleeting.
She rushed towards him, her heart hammering, desperate for answers. "What's going on?"
But his eyes—those eyes—looked right through her. It was as if he couldn't see her. As if she were nothing more than a ghost.
"Why did you leave me, Rhiley?" The words hit her like a cold wave, the question so familiar and yet so alien. She froze, her breath catching in her throat.
"I'm right here," she said, her voice trembling, though she didn't quite believe it herself. Her feet, suddenly heavy, felt like they were sinking into the ground. Each step she took felt more like a step deeper into quicksand. The panic tightened its grip, constricting her chest, and she couldn't shake the suffocating feeling that clawed at her insides.
She tried to take another step, but the ground beneath her gave way. Her foot sank, the earth swallowing her whole, and with each movement, she sank further, helpless, her body trapped in the weight of it all.
"Howard!" she shouted, but the words didn't carry. They fell short, swallowed by the oppressive silence around her.
She reached for him, her heart screaming, but her voice was lost. "Please! Look at me!" But still, he didn't look.
"I can't lose you, Rhiley." Howard's voice trembled now, though his eyes were empty. He was speaking through her, not to her. "I can't lose you."
She reached out again, but her body was too weak, too broken, and with every step she took, she sank deeper into the ground.
"Please," she begged, her hands clawing at the earth around her, but it wasn't enough.
And then, with a final, gut-wrenching cry, Rhiley slipped.
She fell through the darkness, through the cracks in her own heart. And in that moment, the noise, the victory, the celebrations—everything—faded away. The only thing left was the weight of her loss, pressing down on her chest, suffocating her until there was nothing left but emptiness
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Radioactive | Bucky Barnes
Fanfiction"I want to go back to the time you first told me your name." Rhiley, the twin sister of Howard Stark, finds herself wrapped up with the one and only James Barnes. The next time she sees him is on her new assignment with the 107th Infantry Regiment...
