The Winter Soldier is Still Here (Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x reader)

Forgive yourself.

READER POV
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I looked at him. His eyes were bloodshot and glazed over, as he leaned against the door frame and just looked at me. He didn't say anything, just stared at me and chewed on his bottom lip. I figured out quickly, that just like the day we met, I was going to have to begin the conversation.

"Bucky, are you okay? I heard a loud noise."

He rolled his eyes and stood to his full height before turning away from me. He answered as he walked away, leaving the door wide open.

"I'm fine. I'm perfect."

It was clear he was anything but, not to mention the 100% sarcasm in his voice.

I wasn't sure what to do. Should I shut the door and leave? Leave him be and work through whatever was going on? Should I stand at the door for a conversation? Should I text Steve? Maybe it'd be okay if I follow him inside to talk about it? Will it be safe to do that? I continued to stand at the door, confused and trying to make a decision.

I decided to go with two options. I text Steve quickly before deciding to go in.

Hey. This is (y/n) from Lynchburg. Does Bucky get drunk often because he's really drunk right now and I know something is very wrong; I'm going to try and talk to him. I just thought you might like to know.

I pushed the phone back in my jeans pocket, thankfully I hadn't changed into pj's yet before stepping into the apartment slowly.

"Bucky, is it okay if I come in?" I called but didn't receive an answer. After a moment I told him I was doing so. "Okay, I'm coming in. I hope that's okay." Still, there wasn't an answer.

I stepped in fully and shut the door behind me. I walked slowly into the apartment. As I entered beside the kitchen, I noticed how bare his place was. It was a cold place, both literally and metaphorically. It didn't seem fitting of Bucky at all, the Winter Soldier maybe, but not the Bucky I had gotten to know.

Bucky was sitting on his couch, three empty bottles of tequila on the table beside him and one half empty bottle in his hand. How in the world was he even still alive? I'm guessing whatever Hydra did to his body must have set his alcohol tolerance off the charts.

"Bucky?"

He wouldn't even acknowledge me. He just stared at the fireplace that was empty, part of the reason it was so cold in here.

"Bucky, is it cold in here to you? I can get a fire going or turn the heat on."

"No. I want it cold, like me."

His harsh tone made the hairs on my arms jump up similar to a fish trying to get a mosquito floating above the water' surface. His voice definitely matches the temperature of the apartment. Well, if I guessed this had something to do with his past, that answer definitely was leaning towards correct.

"Bucky, are you okay? Clearly, you're not, but would you like to talk about it?"

"No."

BUCKY POV
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Why did she not get to leave me alone? Why was it every time I turned around she was there, whether physically or just in my mind? Why was she still being so nice? Why did I have to be hung up on this woman? I don't want to hurt her. That's all I want, but if she refuses to see that I'm bad for her, there's no hope that she'll ever remain fully unharmed. Maybe if I'm rude enough now, in the beginning, she'll change her mind.

Why is she coming closer? Maybe I should dial up the iciness of my voice.

"Do you mind if I sit?" She asked me. When I didn't answer or acknowledge her, she sat anyway but kept distance between us.