verb. fail to remember
~
She was forgotten.
He forgot.
She didn't mean to. Neither did he.
They were both dragged in. They both fought out. Surviving is hard. Living is harder.
~
~Based on characters and events of the MCU, I only take credit for my...
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June 2015
Your card has been declined.
My face flushed red at the five words—five words nobody ever wanted to see.
Luckily for me, the salesman simply turned the little machine away from me and tried again. Unluckily for me, though, this was no simple machine fluke. A cold dread had settled into my stomach, and I had long since learnt to follow my instincts.
'Silly me,' I said apologetically in flawless Romanian. 'I brought the wrong card with me. Cash will be fine, thank you.' The picture of the innocence I did not feel, I smiled sweetly as I handed over the last of the Romanian Leu I had in my pocket (purses were overrated).
'It's okay, Miss,' the salesman nodded back. I watched suspiciously as a trickle of sweat rolled down his forehead. It may be the middle of summer, but a cool breeze swished through the tiny bakery, meaning it was impossible to sweat of heat. Something was making him nervous. 'It-er-it happens all the time.'
'Are you alright?' My voice was still that falsely innocent tone I only ever use when I want something from a stranger. The icy pit in my stomach tundra chasm.
He nodded, and pale blonde hair flopped down on his forehead. He was young, maybe in his early twenties, and didn't have the stereotypical chub of a baker. 'I was just- uh- curious. Would that man over there glaring a hole into my forehead happen to be your boyfriend?'
I didn't have to turn to know who the salesman was talking about (my body was so attuned to his presence it was almost pathetic) but I did anyway, if only so I could warn him off with my eyes.
Bucky leant against the wall near the door at the other end of the bakery, his covered arms crossed over his chest. I tried (and only slipped up a few times) to ignore the way his muscles stretched the jacket and focused instead on the way his eyes were indeed narrowed on the head of the salesmen. I guess I could understand the fear of him, once upon a time, I would have trembled under that glare too, but now all I could do was laugh.
The baker watched me as if I had gone mad. Maybe I had.
'Boyfriend?' I chortled. Ha. I wish. 'No, no, he's just my friend.'
'Interesting,' said the baker, handing me my pastries. He shot me a glowing smile (he had ridiculously white teeth) which I returned, because it was one of those smiles you couldn't help but give back. 'Come again soon, and when you do, ask for Jakob.' He winked at me. 'That's me, if it wasn't clear.'
My cheeks blazed red, though I wasn't sure why, as I nodded. 'Of course. Your croissants are to die for.'
Then I hurried away before I could embarrass myself any further.
Bucky raised one eyebrow at me as I stumbled back to his side, my cheeks flushed, and the bag clenched too tight in my hands.
