Bucharest || Bucky Barnes

8

He awoke to the sound of breathing beside him, and almost forgot the events of the night before when she had joined him in heading back to his apartment.

Turning his head to the right as he sat up, he gazed at the peaceful woman sleeping under his blankets. One thin arm curled under her head, the other to her clothed chest as if she was clutching something precious.

Leaving the small bedroom, he entered the kitchen and started the coffee machine while he changed his clothes and transfered the knife from his boot to lay flat on the table.

Blade glinting in the morning light as the sun shone through the window.

The sound of footsteps came from the bedroom, and Clarissa emerged wearing her clothes, except for a T-shirt of his that he had lended her for sleepwear.

"I didn't think you drank coffee." She said as she opened two cupboards before finding two mugs which she placed on the table.

"I'm still human." Was his response as he grabbed the coffee pot and filled the mugs.

She grabbed one as she sat down at the table and took a sip. Wincing slightly as she swallowed. "This is cheap stuff."

He gave a faint smile at her expression. "I get whatever is on sale."

She winced again as he grabbed his mug and downed it quickly.

"So that's how you tolerate it then."

He didn't answer as he joined her at the table, fiddling with his knife as he twirled it in his right hand with ease.

"Bucky, do you remember your past life when you were buddies with Captain America?" She said suddenly.

The knife stilled and he frowned. "A bit."

"How about the war?"

"Too familiar."

She seemed to sense his past was a touchy subject and left it alone.

"Clarissa," he started, glancing at over at her. "What haven't you told me yet?"

The mug he noticed, was now being clutched like a lifesaver as she looked away.

"I can't tell you yet."

"When?"

She met his gaze again, and seemed afraid. "It's just family matters and such."

"Your father?"

Clarissa grimaced. "Yes. But we're working it out."

His gaze was once again drawn to the bruises on her neck. The size of a male, well built and strong.

"Did he do that?"

She swallowed. "Don't make me answer that."

"I can help you."

"I'm sorry Bucky, but you can't help me."

She stood and grabbed her coat which hung on a nail by the door. "Listen I have to go. But I promise to be back soon."

"Clarissa -"

"Don't."

He watched her leave, and instead of staying, he lifted the floorboard to reveal his armor and quickly changed. Tucking two knifes in his boots, and holstering his pistol as he left the building.

By the time he had reached the street, her form was just turning the corner, and he had to walk fast to keep up. He wasn't worried about the locals, this early in the morning meant less pedestrians.

His mind was whirling, but he kept moving until he saw her enter an abandoned building six streets down.

And for a second he wondered, if Clarissa was who he thought she was.