I'm An Addict

Roses

Brooklyn was a series of black and grey lines too often crossed. With the rise in crime and the police steadily decreasing as the Gangsters started to infiltrate the main arteries of the cities banks and clubs, people had all but given up on the jurisdiction. 

Alleyways were deemed the darkest strips of the road, even as the sun shone over the buildings. Under balconies and through streets men would be found carrying packages marked with a deadly label the citizens feared to encounter. Empty hearts and soulless bodies, the Gangsters were importing shipments of drug paraphernalia through state lines and city streets straight to people's doorsteps for hard cash.

Mr Barnes was a ruthless fiend. He created an empire from dust and healed bones from ashes. Greed and lust consumed his entire being, created him into something you hadn't entirely wanted to discover but were intrigued by nonetheless. Within two weeks he had gripped your heart with bare hands and kept it as his own.

Bucky wasn't like most men. 

He played with you like a game of cat and mouse, pushed the buttons like they were a series of codes, and talked to you as if you were a child. Bucky had to feel superior you realized. An issue with control and the daily battle of anger issues. His idea of love was flawed and broken from the moment he had met you.

All he cared about was the city of Brooklyn becoming his own. The streets painted with his brand and citizens cowering before his presence as he puffed on a smoke and held his prized pistol at his side. More than an idea, a dream he had slept on every night, a star he had wished on every night. Brooklyn was his kingdom. 

It was rumored his overthrow of the law enforcement and jurisdiction took less than three months. He had used only his brass knuckles and baleful words when the occupation occurred. A confirmed three kills added to his record and over ten assaults on club owners and Gangsters running the city. Using the women of the city as leverage, he slept with a rumored thirty in less than a month. All married or somehow related to the police. 

He never cared for the emotions of others, played in the ballpit that was Brooklyn ruthlessly and tossed toy trucks in the other children's eyes. Many of the stories of how Sir came to be ended in greatness. "And with a whip of his pistol, he blasted Officer Bradley in the gut six times! Slept with his wife and never called her back. Rumor is the babies his. That's how Mr Barnes overthrew Brooklyn." most stories would say. But peers at the high school had whispered of a darker tale. Mr Barnes hated humans. He hated the world. He hated himself.

Yes, Mr Barnes was very different.

The sunlight leaked through the bedroom windows, cascading onto your skin as a sigh pulled itself from your throat. Sheets and blankets tangled around limbs, the soreness of your muscles caused you to frown, pulling yourself from the mattress. 

A conversation was forming outside your room, voices low and tones annoyed. The sound of the kettle catching your ear as it whistled throughout the apartment. Pulling the door open, you blinked drowsily, eyes focusing on the two figures before rubbing a hand over your stomach in hunger. 

Parents talking in hushed tones and glancing to the door warily, you coughed awkwardly, making yourself known as your Father turned to you. The white collared shirt hugged his shoulders, tie hanging from his neck as he adjusted it in nervous habit. "Morning Kiddo." He spoke softly, moving towards the kitchen.

"I thought Scott Finch drove Sir on the weekends?" You inquired, eyebrows raised as he shook his head, hand reaching to turn the stove off. Breathing calmly, he glanced towards your blank Mother, teeth sinking into his lip before he moved to speak. "No, honey. Uh- Scott is sick. He's going to be taking some time off."