Dawn | Bucky Barnes ✔️

46. Daddy Issues

Z A H R A J E N K I N S

My paint brush splatters on to the canvas like confetti being popped open once you pull the string. Colour vapours the canvas as I brush stroke the painting, blending within the different colours. I watch as the paint drips down the canvas, merging in with the other colours splattered.

My hand sticks out again, moving left and right over the wild colours creating a smudge. As my sleeve absorbs the red paint, the edge of my white sweatshirt turns a shade of light pink. I would roll up my sleeves but the damage has already been done and I couldn't be bothered to roll it up just for more paint to get on to the front of my sweater.

It amazes me when a new colour forms when you spread the paint over another colour. The variety of different colours I could create and you can never really get the right blend perfect but it's enough. When you blend the colours for a certain colour, no other tone will be the exact same, you can never create the perfect blend.

I find that awfully true, as I cannot fandom the thought of ever finding the right blend, just like people can't find the right outfit to wear for the day or what they are going to have for dinner. Or if your making the right path in life, do people even know if they do make the right choice in the end?

Am I making the right choice?

I believe I am but that's just my opinion in that manner, I believe I have chosen the rightful path than anyone makes alone. I'm just glad I have people by my side to help me guide my way through life. But in the end no one will truly know if you did, I could be following this path for a long time but at least I have companions by me to follow this long route of this endless journey.

"Knock knock." A familiar voice calls out, I stop my motion on the canvas, flickering my eyes up towards my ajar door to see Natasha popping her head in.

I smiled towards her, "Hello, Tasha."

She closes the door behind her as she walks fully into my room, her eyes flickering from left to right as she takes in my now covered walls that took me for ages to find who I am. My mind isn't so blank anymore like my walls were, they are filled with life now just like my walls are now.

Her lips twitch up at the sketches and posters on my walls, making her way over to me. "I see you've finally made this place your home."

I nodded, a crinkle in my eyes as I stare around my bedroom. "I did." I replied back, side eyeing her. "What did you come in here for?"

"Am I not allowed to see my sister?"

"You are but you know when I step away from the others for awhile means I want to be alone." I voiced out but there's a soft playful tone in my voice.

"I know but i thought you should know this in case he comes in here to talk." She mentioned, watching me from the side of my face as i continue to blush strokes on the canvas.

I furrow my brows, "Who's he?"

"Fury is downstairs with Tony, if you want to talk to him?" Natasha suggested, raising a brow as my paint brush stalls in my hand on the canvas.

"I-I don't know if I'm ready for that. I've thought about it for months but every time I'm set on speaking to him, I freeze up and turn the other way." I explained, continuing my paint strokes to try get rid of the tension in the room building up now.