find me

29. sleep deprivation

A/N: Well, I must have broken the record of how long it can take for an author to update a story. I am sorry for the disappearing act but life has been crazy and I had no choice but to have the book suffer from it.

Anyway, I hope you're well and that you enjoy this chapter.

Mary xxx

~

October 1st — Terrabianca, Sardinia

The old man was staring at him as if he had come from a different planet. He was trying to assess him, Bucky could tell, mentally putting together pieces of a strange puzzle, to find some sense in the bulky scarred man in front of him. His gaze wasn't judgemental, just curious.

That would change, if only he knew what I had done and what I'm capable of, Bucky thought as he smiled through his charade.

Bucky wondered what he must have looked like to a man like him, who had probably lived all his life in this beautiful slice of paradise. Surrounded by the people he grew up with, everything familiar to him like the palm of his own hand, a life of consistency and safety. A man of faith, the small silver cross that hung from the thin chain around his neck a testament to that faith.

Bucky sometimes wished he believed in God. Everything would be so much simpler. All of his sins could be purged if he just confessed to them and repented. And maybe, who knows, if he had been religious, he wouldn't have even fallen on this path. He would have been pious and looked for a better life.

But that didn't happen, instead he stood in front of this man, pretending to be the picture of innocence, knowing he could have judged him for almost every decision he had ever made in his life. And he'd probably be right.

Could this old faithful man see through the mask that Bucky had spent years building? Could he see through his lies?

The air was warm as they entered the empty living room, the old landlord walked around with his hands behind his back.

"Non sa quanto mi dispiace per questo disguido."

You have no idea how sorry I am for this mix-up.

"Non si preoccupi, signor Serra. Quando può far arrivare i mobili?" Bucky replied, a polite smile on his lips.

Don't worry, Mr. Serra. How long will it take for the furniture to get here?

The old man scratched the back of his head as he approached the window and looked out to the sea. "Eh, beh... dipende, ecco. Ci vorrà almeno qualche giorno, come minimo. Potrebbero metterci anche una settimana ad arrivare dal momento che facciamo l'ordine."

Well, it depends. It'll take at least a couple of days. It could take as long as a week since we put the order through.

Bucky nodded, fidgeting with the ring on his left hand, the tight feeling of it unusual. He wasn't expecting anything faster than a few days, but it did irritate him the idea that it could take up to a week for the furniture to arrive. Of course, he only smiled and showed gratitude.

"Perfetto. Può fare l'ordine oggi?"

That's perfect. Can we put it through today?

The landlord took out a small notebook with a leather cover and a pen. "Si, certo. Basta che mi dice cosa vi serve."

Yes, of course. Suffices only that you tell me what you need.