Hurt // Marvel [2]

5

I sip the coffee that's sitting in front of me as I stare at the screen of the phone that's turned off and sitting on the table. I'm sure that if I turned it on, it'd be filled with texts and calls from everyone. Especially Steve. But I'm also sure that as soon as I turn it on, Tony will pinpoint my location and someone will be here to convince me to go back faster than I'd be able to get away from the phone.

I realize that it was stupid to bring it, especially since I've been obsessed with it since I left. I know I won't be able to use it unless I want everyone coming after me. But I just couldn't leave it behind. It's the only way I'd be able to contact the team if I would need to for any reason. No matter how many times I try to convince myself to just drop the phone and leave everyone behind, I can't do it.

That team helped me through two very rough times, even though I'm not even completely over the second one. They were there for me when no one else was and I couldn't be more thankful, but I had become a burden. No matter how good I became at combat, that didn't change the fact that I wasn't always sure how to control my powers. I can't even count the number of times I unintentionally hurt someone while in training, or even outside of it.

I sigh before shoving the phone back into my backpack, right by the charger and headphones that have become useless since I won't be turning the damn thing on. I grab the travel coffee cup off the table and begin heading down the street, back towards the hotel I checked into just yesterday.

I'm not sure why I even chose Romania. It's not like I've always dreamed of coming here or something. And it's not like I could've googled it while at the facility, Tony would've been on my ass before I could leave the grounds.

I keep my head down as I walk through the streets, glancing into alleyways out of habit and paranoia. I immediately look away upon seeing a figure in one of them, not wanting to send any sort of bad message and get myself into trouble. But I can't help but glance behind me after I pass, and I notice a man walk out.

His hands are shoved in his pockets and his long dark hair is being used to cover his face.

I step over to the side and inspect a stall that's filled with fruit and glance back over at the man as he passes right by me. I let out a gasp when I get a small look at his face.

I've heard a million stories about Bucky Barnes from Steve. I've visited their exhibit in the museum more times than I can count, but I never expected to see the guy in person.

I wait until he's farther ahead of me before stepping back out into the street, but I really don't think I'm very good at discreetly following someone, and Bucky has been trained to notice these things. I keep my eye near the back of his head and pretend to read signs or look at things for sale if I notice him turning around.

As I turn away from a stall filled with various clothing garments, I'm unable to find Bucky. I pick up the pace slightly as I head down the street, searching for his dark hair and hoodie.

I don't even know why I'm so keen on finding him. It's not like I even know him, despite how many stories I've been told. I do know however, that this guy is a trained assassin and could easily kill me before I even knew what happened. It'd probably be best if I stayed away, but I'd almost like to have some sort of friend here. Or even just someone I could notice on the streets.

In the middle of my thoughts, I'm pulled into an ally with a hand placed over my mouth before I could even scream. I instinctively use my recent combat training to attempt to get the hand away, but it doesn't budge and the man doesn't even flinch.

"You're following me." I look up and meet Bucky's green eyes. He moves his hand from my mouth slightly but keeps me bound against the wall.

"You're Bucky." He just stares at me and I'm not sure how to explain myself. "I'm one of Steve's friends." Still just a blank stare. "I didn't really mean to follow you. Well, I meant to but I wasn't planning to."