Hope Ur Ok

Bad Habits

Bucky led Mayia through the winding streets of Bucharest, each step taking them closer to his apartment. The city's din began to fade into the background, replaced by the hushed tension that hung between them. She couldn't help but feel a mixture of fear and curiosity about the man who walked beside her—a man who had been both victim and perpetrator.

Finally, they arrived at Bucky's apartment building, a nondescript structure that blended seamlessly into the urban landscape. As they entered the dimly lit lobby and climbed the stairs, the silence grew more pronounced, a palpable weight in the air.

Once inside the apartment, Mayia scanned the modest living space, taking in the sparse furnishings and the traces of a life that had been lived in solitude. It was a stark contrast to the sterile, clinical environment of the HYDRA facility, and for the first time in years, she felt a semblance of normalcy.

Bucky's voice, quiet yet steady, broke the silence. "What's your name?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Mayia hesitated, her inner voice whispering its warnings like a relentless mantra. "He's here for you, Mayia. You can't trust him. You can't escape your past." But she couldn't remain nameless forever, not if she hoped to find the answers she sought.

Taking a deep breath, she finally spoke, her voice trembling slightly. "Mayia Keller."

Bucky's gaze didn't waver, but there was a hint of understanding in his eyes. He had seen the haunted look in her eyes, the pain that lurked beneath the surface.

"Mayia," he repeated, as if testing the name on his tongue. "It's good to meet you."

A silence fell between them, heavy with unspoken questions and the weight of their shared histories. Bucky seemed to understand the complexity of her situation, the darkness that had once consumed her.

Then, as if to break the tension, he gestured towards the small kitchenette. "Hungry? I can make us something to eat."

The offer was simple, a gesture of hospitality, but it carried a significance that wasn't lost on Mayia. She had lived for years on meager rations and scraps, and the prospect of a warm meal was a rare luxury.

She nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. Bucky moved with a practiced ease, gathering ingredients and utensils, his metal arm glinting in the soft light. Mayia watched him work, her thoughts a whirlwind of uncertainty and longing.

As they sat down to eat, the simple meal tasted like a banquet to Mayia. The flavors filled her senses, and for a moment, the silence between them felt comfortable, as if they were two souls who had found a momentary respite from the darkness that had defined their lives.

Mayia couldn't ignore the persistent doubts that whispered in her mind, the voice that warned her against trusting too easily. But in that moment, as she shared a meal with Bucky Barnes, she couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope.

The road ahead was still uncertain, fraught with danger and unanswered questions, but for the first time in years, Mayia Keller, survivor and fugitive, had found a moment of solace—a brief respite from the relentless pursuit of her past.

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The simple meal they shared brought a sense of comfort to the otherwise tense atmosphere in Bucky's apartment. Mayia savored each bite, the flavors and textures a reminder of the world she had long been denied. As she ate, she couldn't help but let her mind wander to the enigmatic man sitting across from her.