Bucky Barnes: Tony Starks daughter

07 - the argument

"Do you know what she's talking about?" Peter said, clearly trying to act dumb in front of me. He was the one of the smartest guys I knew, and that's saying something, me living in the Avengers compound, but I played along with it, he just looked so cute while doing it.

"Yeah..." I explained what the teacher meant.

"Oh wow thanks," he replied, seeming as though he'd actually learnt something, major confidence boost for me.

"Hey, do you mind if I use your notes?" He asked.

"Sure, here," I answered.

"Maybe you could um help me, sometime, say after school today?"

"Yeah, of course," I smiled.

"Oh, that's great."

"After school? Sure. Oh wait I need to call my... um friend... boy¿?" I didn't know what to refer to Bucky as.

"Okay?" He squinted his eyes, confused "friend boy?" He repeated.

"My boyfriend," I blurted out. Shit.

"What do you mean? Wait is this the guy that drops you off everyday?" He sounded sad and kind of pissed, something new to add for my dictionary of describing Peter.

"Shit, no, I mean friend, he's just a friend, I swear." It wasn't even like I was trying to convince Peter, I think I was trying to convince myself.

"Meet at the lockers?" He laughed.

I nodded. "He lives in my building, it's kind of a communal... work... space thing, my dads co-workers?"

"Co-workers?" He repeated. "What does your dad do again."

**After school

I walked slowly down the halls, finally relaxing after the long day. I knew Peter would probably be a couple minutes late so I waited by my lockers.

Thirty minuets later, still no sign of him, he wasn't gonna come. Maybe he forgot.

*Buzz*

I quickly got out my phone to see if it was peter, but just Bucky.

He sounded so mad.

I left the doors and walked down to see Bucky looking at me with an annoyed expression, turning his head away when I got near. I felt so bad for Bucky, I forgot to message him. He's probably been getting stares for the last thirty minutes as well.

I'm pissed about Peter though, I don't understand why he blew me off.

As soon as we got home Bucky got off the motor bike quickly, and walked away, mumbling under his breath.

"Buck..." I clutched his metal arm softly with my matching mechanical one.

He turned, "Go on then what do you have to say? That your sorry that you forgot about me? Y/n, you were clearly gonna go to that guys house," he started, referring to Peter. "You didn't even text me, even after I specifically told you to ring me if you need anything!" He shouted. "You're sixteen years old, you have no place going to a boys house! I mean seriously?" He questioned, his voice sufficiently raised and echoing across the garage. "You couldn't send me one fucking text message?!"

"Bucky?" Steve shouted, "What's your problem?"

"Oh, don't give me that shit," he scolded, rolling his eyes and storming out, purposely knocking into Steve's shoulder.

Steve shot me a confused look, but I quickly dodged his gaze by running past him, avoiding his body, it being way too solid for me to collide with. I quickly pressed the button for my floor, noticing that the other elevator was going up to Bucky's floor. I wish I'd be able to have the strength to even think about pushing the engraved writing that said B-BARNES, instead I just pressed mine, (your initial)-STARK. I was such a wimp.

"Halliday?" I said when I got to my floor.

"Yes, Ms. Stark?"

"Run me a hot bath."

"How hot is hot Miss? I don't want it to burn you. The maximum safe temperature is 50 °C and that still could dam—"

"Oh my fucking god!" I yelled.

"Should I just set it to 38 °C?"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP" I shouted, throwing my phone across the room.

My rage held all the power of a wildfire, you could practically see the flames roaring in my eyes, ready to ignite anything that I came in contact with. I was angry but guilt was the thing had effect on me. It wasn't until I was on the floor with my hands over my tearful eyes that I realised what I'd done.

As I wiped away the blur I saw my the mess I'd made, my side table was flipped, mirror was smashed and my wardrobe was broken in two places, one on the door and the other in the centre parting. My tv had surprisingly survived through my episode though, only slanted to the left by an inch or so.

My hands were painted with beads of blood, probably from catching it on the wooden furniture or the mirror.

My throat felt scratchy too from screaming so much. I had developed a method over time of hiding my screams at night, Bucky's floor being above me. Although I could never hear him, I couldn't risk it. I just simply cried into a densely packed pillow.

After a few more moments of breathing in and out, I got to my feet and went to the elevator going down to the ground floor. The open area was quieter than usual, no Steve around in the kitchen to tell me off about my shoes on the carpet, my dad not in his lab to give me a smile, no Sam watching Friends to ask about the gossip at school.

When I got to the garage, my eyes immediately went to the red bike. It was Bucky's favourite, the one we rode to school every day. It made me tear up just thinking about my hands wrapped around his warm body.

A rode it for an hour or so but I still didn't feel any better, I just kept thinking about Bucky. My mind drifted to times we were together; like when we danced on the balcony into the night while songs from the 40s mumbled in the background, him spinning me around every so often. Our mechanical hands were opposite so we linked together perfectly, our warm human hands on the sides of each others body and our metal interlocked beautifully.

It just made me feel like such shitty person so I decided to go back home. When I got back I walked to the living room from the garage to see it empty still. It was so quiet.

I walked upstairs to see if anyone was at the bar, but nothing. The sun was only just giving off its golden wash across the facility and it's surroundings, there's no way everyone was in bed.