Wanted || A Bucky Barnes Fanfiction (English Version)

Chapter 8

At some point around 5 a.m. I arrived back at the tower, staggering slightly.
It took a lot of alcohol to get me in this condition, my metabolism burning it out of my system as soon as it entered.
It was quiet and no one seemed to be awake or already awake, so I tried to quietly find my way back to my room.
When I got to the right level, I got out of the elevator and briefly held on to the railing before continuing on my way.
I crept past the living room when I saw the light still on in the kitchen.
Curiously, I peeked in and saw Barnes sitting in front of a cup of coffee, staring into it.
I was about to quietly make a run for it when I accidentally leaned on the light switch, illuminating the living room.

Startled, Barnes turned in my direction. "Sorry," I said, slurring my words a little, smiling, and turned it off again.
I was just about to turn around when the memory from before came back.

Why did we hate each other?

I walked towards him confident but with a determined expression, which he only responded to with a confused look.
I sat down on the chair next to him and looked at him.
"Can I ask you something?" I said, trying to speak clearly.
I took his absent "Hm?" as a yes.
"Why do we hate each other?" I asked bluntly, trying to sound as indifferent as possible.
His face rang in my direction and he looked at me, surprised and excited at the same time.
Without a word, he stood up and grabbed my arm to pull me along with him.
"What the hell are you doing, Barnes?!" I hissed at him, dumbfounded.
"Come with me. We can't talk to each other here," he whispered to me. Confused, I followed him to the elevator as he instructed F.R.I.D.A.Y. to take us to the roof.

When I got to the top, my breath caught up for a moment as I looked out over the wide awake City, but I didn't get to enjoy the view for long because Barnes pulled me along again and sat down on the edge of the building.
I did the same and dangled my legs from the roof hundreds of meters above New York.
He was silent and stared stubbornly ahead, not meeting my gaze.
„So? Why do we hate each other, Barnes?" I asked him again.
He looked down briefly before taking a deep breath and looking at me.
"We don't hate each other. At least not anymore. I wish I could spill everything, Y/N," he said and I just looked at him coldly.
"And we had to come here for that?" I spat at him contemptuously.
I was just about to prop myself up to leave when Barnes grabbed my arm and forced me to stay.
"I'd love to tell you more, but Stark is right. You have to remember on your own and it seems you do," he stated and even though he wasn't looking at me, I could clearly see the pain.
I just looked at him in amazement and waited for him to continue.
He exhaled loudly and ran his hands over his face. "What did you remember?" he asked, still not looking at me.
Luckily it was still dark, otherwise he would see how red my face was turning at the thought of my last memory.
"I don't think I should talk to you about this of all people," I then stated absently.
He looked at me again and I felt him trying to read me.
"Why not?" he asked me, confused, but I didn't answer.
Ignoring his question seemed to be answer enough for him, because he stroked his face again and sighed before leaning back on his arms and staring up into the night sky.

"You remembered the night with Steve, right?" he asked after a while of silence, and this time I could clearly hear the vulnerability in his voice.
I didn't answer again and continued to stare ahead.
"Am I right, Y/N?!" he asked, now more angry.
"Yes," I said monotonously. I didn't want to escalate the situation unnecessarily, especially because I didn't know enough, so I stayed calm.
Barnes also seemed to regain his composure immediately and took a deep breath.
"And what do you remember?" he asked calmly again.
"Stark's party," I asked, and Barnes laughed briefly.
I looked at him, confused.
"Which one out of the thousand?" he asked, laughing.
I couldn't help but laugh briefly as I started to answer and told him about the memory.
He stared ahead again and seemed a little overwhelmed.
"I should go now," I said, and ran towards the elevator to finally get to my room.

When I got to my room, I took off my clothes and slipped into an oversized T-shirt from my closet. In the bathroom I washed my face and drank a glass of water before I went to my bed and slipped under the covers.
I was dead tired, but couldn't sleep because I was racking my brains over the memories and trying to sort out my feelings.
Suddenly my nickname from my memories kept echoing in my head.
I felt my pulse start to race and knew immediately that another memory was coming.
I had already put aside my fear of these because my curiosity had now outgrown them.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes to let the impending memory come to me.