En•vy [ˈenvē]
(n.) a feeling of discontented or resentful longing aroused by someone else's possessions, qualities, or luck
Synonym: JealousyKink: Voyeurism
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POV Steve in 1938 at Bucky's House
I walk through the front door excitedly awaiting the day Bucky's planned for us. He called earlier and invited me to come over around five this evening, and I could hardly wait so I arrived a bit early.
"Hey, Bucky," I greet him, smiling gaily and shucking off my shoes. That's when the actuality of the situation dawns on me.
"Steve, you remember Delores," he motions for the perfect, ginger-haired woman sitting beside him on the couch. She turns and waves, narrowing her devilishly blue eyes at me like I was an ill child.
"Good evening, Steve," she says, motioning to her side to yet another woman I didn't notice was sitting there. "This is Gladys, my best friend."
"Lovely to meet you, Gladys," I approach, sending Bucky a look that hopefully asks 'what is going on here?'
Her eyes crawl over my skin like she's looking at some vermin in the woods, like I'm less than human and something out of The Land That Time Forgot... or at the very least, less than her. She smiles falsely, and I watch the hope of a good evening wither in her eyes. I hadn't expected my first minute in this abode to leave me feeling so dejected, yet that's where I am now.
Bucky sits back down next to Delores, so I make my way to my implied space next to Gladys. A glance out the window to the green grass of the area just outside of New York City makes me wish we'd at least gathered outdoors where the fall sun could warm our skin. Then, at least, my freckles could pop up and Gladys might think more of me.
I notice Bucky smiling candidly and laughing with Delores as she touches his arm and continues the conversation onward, something about how beautiful her hair is or whatever.
"So, Gladys, what do you like to do for fun?" I ask her, hoping she might mention something we both enjoy doing and distract me from what's happening behind her.
She thinks for a moment before finally replying. "I very much enjoy reading, going for walks, and swimming in the summer," she smiles meekly. "And in the winter I suppose I'm more inclined to bake and such."
"It sounds like you have a lot of hobbies," I comment. "What's the most recent book you've read?"
"I just finished The Lost World," she tells me, beginning to explain the plot as I lose interest yet again and fall into a different plane thinking about quite literally nothing else in particular.
A few feet behind Gladys, I notice Bucky and Delores kissing slowly. Slow only at first, though, because they soon picked up pace, and I was the first to notice. I suppose my expression gave away the situation because Gladys turns around and notices for herself not long thereafter.
My skin burns, likely flushing my face red, and I feel a buzz under my skin that irritates me like nothing else. It kills me to watch, but I can't look away, and in a sense, part of me wants to see how he kisses her. I realize that I hate Delores, deep down recognizing that feeling as me being envious because, more than anything, I want to be her.
Bucky and I have been friends for as long as I can remember, but only recently have I started wanting things I never thought I could desire. I'd find myself awaiting his calls and visiting his house hoping his family would be absent. Every so often I even dream about him in the night only to find that I've woken up with the messy remnants of wishful thinking. I suppose if I can't have him in this reality, having him in dreamland is better than nothing at all.
YOU ARE READING
Obsession: The Seven Deadly Sins
RomanceA real sin is something for which you can never atone ☆ They say committing any if the seven deadly sins only leads to more loss of ethical awareness, but Steve Rogers has never been misguided nor immoral... at least not until he met Bucky Barnes. ...