Pushing Daisies [BUCKY BARNES]

1

"How'd you learn to punch like that?"

My eyes snapped to the left, my right fist swinging to break through the skin on my final punching bag of the night. "Reasons."

The stranger stood there, leaning against the doorframe, the dim lights of the West Street Gym flickering over his head. I couldn't properly see his face, the murky shadows sitting in all the crevices of his skin, the pockets of his eyes, and the form of his lips. "You're one hell of a fighter."

I huffed, still standing to face the back wall, my vision trained on him from the corners of my eyes. "Damn straight."

"Why'd you drop it?"

I shrugged his comment off, stalking to the back wall to grab a step stool, before positioning it under the punching bag. I climbed up, unhooking it, and dropping it to the floor. "Reasons."

"You don't talk very much, do you?"

I rolled my eyes at this, stepping down and dragging the decrepit punching bag back towards the trash bin.

"Heard you were looking for a job. I might just have one."

I chuckled quietly to myself, brushing the loose sand off my fingers, and let my tongue flick out to lick my dry lips. "Oh yeah? What kinda job?"

"You any good at cleaning?"

Now I turned to him, crossing my arms. "Cleaning? Buddy, I'm a fighter, I don't clean for a living."

"But you could."

I stood still for a moment, cocking my head slightly to the left, thinking over my options. I didn't even know this dude, he had just waltzed into my gym without a care in the world. But on the other hand...

"Fine," I snapped, letting my hand fly loose to jab a finger in his direction, "get me an interview. Tomorrow, 6:20 am, Julianne's."