daybreak. / bucky barnes

3 | FURNACE

(печь)

HER EYES WERE red and swollen, a blue piece of paper delicately held in her fingers, folding it about it obscure ways. Tears were running down her face one after another.

Bucky just sat there and watched. His arms crossed, his spine perfectly aligned with the metal door frame he was leaned up against. The only thing heard in the room was the girl's breathing and her cries and Bucky's nearly non-existent breathing, the only sign of life within him.

Bucky's eyes were glued to the girl as her chopped hair hung over the view of her face, her eyes were focused down towards the table. He didn't know why this interest for this girl was amidst, but he didn't like it.

But, he couldn't help it.

Bucky watched closely as she played with the piece of paper in her hands, he wondered silently what she was making. Her elbows were rested against the hard wood of the table in front of her, the chair unmoving as she sat in it. She looked calm, thankfully. Just what the two of them needed. He still couldn't quite grasp why he was put on duty for the girl who shares the same abilities as himself. He admitted, she was intimidating, but of course he wouldn't let that show.

"Don't you have any sympathy for a girl you've never met crying in a cage with the same abilities and past as yourself?"

Bucky's eyes bolted up, meeting with her red, puffy ones. His face hardened as they made eye contact, showing he wasn't up to talk, but she didn't care. What's the worst he could do? He wouldn't kill her.

   He stared forward, not breaking eye contact with her for even a second. Her body leaned forward suddenly, resting her weight on her crossed arms out in front of her, pressed against the table, a flicker of a smirk held on her pretty, pink lips though her eyes still held the swelling and pinkness from the crying.

   "Are you going to answer me?"

   Silence.

   She sat back, a frown now held on her features. She wondered why he wouldn't answer him. She didn't hurt him very badly during the confrontation of the Avengers and herself. He just stood there, the metal and flesh of both arms crossed over his chest. The contrast was alluring.

   "You lock me in this thick glass fucking box and can't even serve me a word?" She asked, raising her voice while crossing her arms tightly across her chest and flexing her metal hand. If he was hurt about her nearly kicking his ass earlier, she couldn't give much to justify or apologize for it. What else did they expect her to do when they run at her and try to attack her? "I—"

   "You were and might still be with HYDRA. And you almost killed me. Why would I even serve you the time of day?" He snapped, turning away as his nostrils flared, his arms flexing as he tightened his fists, standing up straight. At that, she stood, knocking the table over in the process, her nostrils flaring as her hand raised, landing a hard punch on the glass with her metal arm.

   "I'm not with HYDRA!" She screamed, as if it were the worst insult he could've thrown at her. But, in her defense, it was. She felt such hate for them and what they did to her. She hated how just the metal arm attached to her body, attached her to Hydra as well. The tears welled in her eyes again as she punched and punched at the thick glass with all of her might, cracks webbing through it more and more with each burst of impact. "They captured me and turned me into you. They said, "we've done it before, so let's do it again," and I'm what came out of it," she said, placing the metal of her hand against the glass and looking at it with mourning. "I don't know what I'm doing or what I did," she breathed, placing her forehead on the glass and putting both of her hands on the back of her head. Whispering, "I'm afraid."