CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

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( hello, quick author note before we get started. i added a new author note to the introduction that i'm encouraging everyone to read before the start of this chapter. also yes, the character names have changed for three of my ocs! a quick recap:

cynthia hayes = clara bayton

millie johnston = kiera livington

maisie johnston = katie livington

these are the character's original names and so going forward it's easier on me to just change them back and continue the story, and also it makes me happy to see these names on wattpad again. alright, onto the new chapter! also: thank you so much for over 700 READS??? i can't believe last chapter i was talking about hitting 500 and now we're over 700. thank you guys SO MUCH <3 now, enjoy the chapter! )



TUESDAY, JULY 8TH — 2008

Logan woke up, gasping and sweating, to an empty bed.

The heat had been getting to both of them, triggering nightmares. For a brief moment, he panicked; he had never woken up to her not in bed with him, save for mornings.

Throwing the blankets off, he got out of bed, and walked towards the guest bedroom. Opening the door, his heart sank when he saw that the ladder to the attic wasn't pulled down. Meaning she wasn't there, either.

He made his way down into the shop, and saw the door to the hallway ajar. He peered down the hallway, and saw a light from the room at the end of it.

Their training room.

Walking a bit quicker now, Logan finally reached the door and opened it. Sitting in front of her trunk on her heels, was Clara, holding...A mask, of some sort.

"Clare?" Logan said aloud, but she didn't look up. He came closer to her, and sat down on the floor next to her. "Did you have another nightmare?"

She nodded, and caressed the mask in her hands with her thumbs. "You know," She said hoarsely, "Bucky left his mask once in my apartment. On purpose, I think. So I could always have something to remember him by."

Logan looked down at it again, and saw it wasn't a full mask—more like half of one. It would only cover the lower part of the face, leaving the eyes to be seen.

This was the first time she had truly talked to Logan about Bucky—he'd talked to her about Jean plenty of times, but...She had never talked about Bucky. Or the winter soldier.

"What was he like? When he was Bucky?" Logan asked.

"He was sweet, kind. Doting. A very...Classic man, if that makes sense. He was definitely straight out of the 40s. We never really talked about current times, because the time he'd lost was upsetting for him." She stopped caressing the mask, then. "But Win...He was mean, vicious. He hated me. He hated being attracted to me, hated having this...Trust in me that stemmed from Bucky's trust. He, like Bucky, couldn't stay from me."

Logan reached out, caressing her arm. A tear rolled down her face. "You know what the weirdest part of it all was?" She whispered.

"What was it?" He quietly asked, still caressing her arm. Encouraging her.

"The first time he told me he loved me, it was Win telling me Bucky did. Which meant that in some sort of way, Win did too." She lifted the mask, and studied it.

"When Bucky finally told you, did he say...Sort of...How?" Logan asked, curious. He wanted to know if his response to Kiera's questioning to him about it factored in.

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