Shadow of the Past (Captain America) // ✔️ //

Chapter 26: The Restless Soul

Not knowing why she was there, Antonia found herself sitting on an edge of a cliff with a bottle of fine wine in her hands. She didn't pay much attention in the why as much of the drinking it. As she had every interest in downing the bottle, she saw no need for a wine glass. There was no need to waste water on washing an unneeded glass when she could drink from the bottle itself. Plus, if she drunk from the bottle, it meant that she didn't have to share the expensive bottle of wine which was a good thing because she didn't intended to.

With her legs swinging lightly over the edge of the cliff, she leaned her head back and took a big drink. She swished the liquid in her mouth, savoring the taste before letting it go down. She stared at the sky for a few seconds before she took another drink. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes as she took in the rich favors. She could feel the alcohol start to affect her, and she loved that. To her, it felt like she was the edge of control and utter chaos, and Antonia Stark loved that feeling. It still surprised her that it took so little time for alcohol to affect her despite her years of non-stop drinking and partying – you'd think she'd be immune to it by now. She was thankful she wasn't.

She didn't enjoy being wasted, though there had been times, but she enjoyed the lack of worry. She enjoyed the ability to stop thinking; she enjoyed the numbness that it brought her and she could pretend she was happy. She wanted to be happy, which the alcohol allowed her the illusion of it. At the moment, it allowed her to relax and enjoy the hot sun, and she sat there as the wind blow lightly.

"Just as I expected from you, Stark."

Antonia couldn't suppressed her flinch as that cold, nasty voice cut through the roaring waves. Her heart raced as she turned to face the person who had sneaked up on her. "Bucky," she uttered, surprised to see him here.

The sergeant looked as he did at the beach, if not bloodier. Blood covered his face, but it didn't hide the murderous expression on his face as he scowled at her. "Enjoying yourself?" he asked, bitterly. The genius could only stare as he stepped toward her with a profound limp. "Enjoying your life while I bleed? While I suffer?" his voice was sharp and cut through her like sharp glass on the skin.

The wine bottle slipped from Antonia's hand, shattering on the stone, as she struggled to her feet. She was tipsy, almost stumbling, but she didn't stop trying. Plus, the shock of seeing Barnes shook some sense and clarity into her. "H-how are you here?" she found herself asking him, struggling over her words.

Bucky stepped to her ever so slowly. "Sorry that I'm here? Wished I was dead?" he asked, coldly.

Antonia could only stare for a few seconds as he walked to her. Her brain couldn't wrap itself around the fact that Bucky Barnes was in front of her alive, which was frustrating as there were so many things that she wanted to say. She wished she could change what happened to him. "Bucky," she said softly, reaching a hand to his bloody face. To see him like this hurt.

Before Antonia could touch him, Barnes grabbed her wrist and twisted it. She yelped both in pain and shock, as she never expected him to be so mad and malevolent, even with the murderous look in his eyes. The Bucky she knew could never be like this; the Bucky she knew was loving and caring, but she supposed it was her fault. She had let him die. "Bucky," she uttered again, as she stared into his blood shot eyes.

"Barnes to you," he snapped as he squeezed her wrist.

She yelped again as she tried to yank her arm away, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't break his strong and ruthless grip on her. And to make matters worse, all her struggle did was put her on unstable ground. She could feel the edge of the cliff crumble beneath her as Bucky shoved her back. "Please, stop," she begged.