𝑺𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅-𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏.
LIKE FATHER, LIKE DAUGHTER.
Charlie, also known as the jet-setter and billionaire Tony Stark's only daughter, is 26 and in a relationship with Steve, soon-to-be successor...
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𝑱𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 the officers from the diner across the street for quite some time now. He had seen them leave for some intervention and waited for them to get back and watched them for another couple of hours.
The sun had set now, and since he had arrived James had drank more cups of coffee that was probably recommended. He hadn't slept well since that night a month ago. He hadn't slept at all, actually. Leopards can't change their spots they say, right? But it allowed him some time to think.
He thought about her, as if he hadn't done that since he had first laid eyes on her, about the situation, and about what he had to do to get things right.
He came to a conclusion.
After taking a deep breath, James crossed the street with a firm step, remembering it was the right thing to do, convincing himself it was the only way, as he lowered the hood of his dark grey hoodie and readjusted his black leather jacket.
He pushed the door of the police station open. Here. There was no going back from this.
"Barnes," Wilson greeted him loudly as soon as he spotted him at the police station entrance. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? Here to finally be handcuffed?"
Some of his colleagues where bold and stupid enough to laugh, while the smart ones kept their mouths shut when they met James's killing gaze.
He hadn't planned to make a scene when he thought of showing up unexpected at the NYPD station. But it was without counting on Samuel fucking Wilson.
"We need to talk. Privately," James lowly declared through gritted teeth, trying to ease his nerves somehow. He needed to remember why he was there now. And for whom.
In that same police station weeks ago, he had seen her for the very last time.
I just want you to leave me alone and I never want to see you again.
If his bruised lip had healed, his heart hadn't. It never would. It would remain shattered and nothing nor no one could fix it. Except Charlie.
She'd been the air he'd breathed for over six months, and just like that, she'd vanished. Well, she rather cut him off her life. Understandably.
Though he knew it would be the best thing to do, James couldn't stay away from her. He had walked by the Stark Tower too many times he could count, careful for the stationed police officers Detective Wilson had sent at the entrance and on the other side of the street not to spot him, trying to catch a glimpse of her. But he never did. She never left the building. Not even to go to her office.
That was how broken she was. And he was the one responsible for it. Fuck.
Wilson nodded in the direction of his office in the back of the police station and James quickly followed him. As soon as the detective closed the door behind them, James opened his mouth as he watched him walk to his desk.
