His Soulmate | Bucky Barnes ✔

Chapter Thirteen

~Buckys POV~

I sat in the living room, tugging nervously on the cuff of my suit. The last time I'd worn this was for Amelie's party, and now it was for her mums funeral. I gulped, looking around the room. Steve sat next to me in a matching black suit. Sam and Clint were sat on the sofa opposite us, talking softly. Bruce was pacing the floors, and everyone was trying to ignore Wade who was blabbering non-stop to try and fill the silence.

"So you're leaving the tower?" I looked up to see Clint looking directly at me.

I frowned, "yes." Clint nodded, and I eyed him warily before looking down again.

We were waiting for the last four members of our party before we could head down to the church. Amelie and Peter hadn't really spoken since she moved in upstairs, but I wasn't going to force her to do anything she didn't want to do. She was stubborn, as I was learning, and although she felt guilty, she knew what she had said was the truth.

She was also emotional (which was to be expected, with everything that had happened), and Steve had quietly warned me that dames these days were more open with their emotions, making everyone more on edge every time she entered the room.

Which she did now. The lift doors slid open, and out stepped Nat, squeezing Amelie's hand. Nat was wearing a knee length black dress and blazer, small black pumps over her feet. But my attention was on Amelie, who wore a half sleeve black dress, slightly low cut, paired with black tights and heeled black boots. She wore a thick, big black coat over her shoulders, hiding the beautiful body that I knew was underneath.

We'd agreed not to tell anyone about us for the time being. It was both our first real relationship, and after the way the tower reacted to Peter and Wade being together, we'd panicked slightly. Add in the death of a parent, and the reasons against us being open were increasing.

But in this moment, I wished I could run over to her and sweep her up in my arms, tell her that everything was going to be okay, and kiss her until she believed me.

***

The funeral passed by without a hitch. Tony read a passage, as did Steve, and then Amelie read the obituary. She wobbled, her voice cracking violently halfway through, but Peter stood next to her and held her hand until she could breathe evenly enough to form coherent sentences. In that moment I knew they forgave each other, clinging to one other as they accepted they were the last two Parkers.

At the end of the service Amelie had invited everyone back to the bar, to eat, drink and celebrate her mothers life.

And that's where we were now. Except it was now nine o clock, and everyone else had left around four.

Peter was sprawled out in a booth, babbling incoherent nonsense at Wade, who just smiled sadly and took it all in. I didn't see what the others' problem with Wade was. Sure he was cocky a lot of the time, but when it came down to stuff like this, he really stepped up.

Tony was sat on the steps of the stage, drinking slowly from a bottle, not saying anything. Seeing Peter so upset had hit him in a way he wasn't prepared for, and he was struggling with trying to let him know everything would be okay.

Nat, Clint and Bruce were curled up in a booth to the side, talking quietly. They'd had a few beers but from my viewpoint they all looked sober enough. Which was good as the only completely sober people in the bar were me and Steve, who were trying to stop Amelie from drinking everything in sight.

She'd drunk ciders and beers, countless glasses of champagne and wine, before moving onto shots, liqueurs and spirits straight from the bottle.

"I just want to say..." she climbed onto the bar, and I jumped up, shadowing her in case she fell. "I love you guys. All of you. Even-" she hiccuped and pointed at Tony "even grumpy guts over there." She giggled, and stepped off the bar, letting me catch her before she pushed out of my arms, yanking her shoes off.

"Come on this is a celebration! Lets  be happy!" She yelled, twirling her shoes around her head.

I shot a look at Nat, who jumped up as Amelie began tugging at her dress, and she threw her coat back over her shoulders. "Okay, so drunk Amelie strips. That's... information."

I rolled my eyes, and grabbed her by the shoulders, lowering my head so we were eye level. "Amelie, we're going back home."

Everyone stood up and began walking towards the door. But Amelie stood fast and shook her head. "I don't have a home."

I frowned, "yeah you do. The tower."

She shrugged and began slurring again. "S'not my home. Home was with mum."

My eyebrows creased as I bent down, my hands slipping down to her elbows. "I know. But I'm not letting you sleep alone at the flat, so we're going to the tower, okay?"

Her face smiled sleepily. "You'll sleep with me? Let's go home..." she lazily tugged on my arm. Luckily she had whispered so no one could hear her. Good thing it took a lot more for me to blush.

"Okay, this is how we're doing it then." I pulled her to me, and she wrapped her hands tight around my neck. I lifted her legs up, letting  her hook them around my hip, so I could easily carry her in my arms.

She hung around me like a koala, babbling into my chest the entire way home, talking about anything that popped into her head. We reached her floor first, and I stepped out with Steve to put her down to bed.

As I lowered her, her tight fingers dug in around my neck. "No!" She mumbled.

"Amelie, let go."

"No!"

"Amelie-" I warned, but tears slowly began falling down her cheeks.

"Please don't leave me. Please, I'll do what ever you want but please - I don't want to be alone." Her voice sounded lost, broken. Her eyes were barely open, but she stared at me, shaking.

I looked at Steve, whose concern filled eyes seemed to answer for me. "I'm not going anywhere doll, I just need you to let go."

She nodded sleepily, and her grip softened, her arms falling to her side. Steve poured a glass of water and collected painkillers and sat them on the little table by her bed. I managed to slide her arms out of her coat, and tugged her boots off her feet. I looked around on her desk and found makeup wipes (or so they were labelled), and managed to wipe the majority off her face.

"Stop!" Her hand slapped mine as she giggled "tickles..." she mumbled as her eyes closed.

Steve sighed and pulled her up, forcing her to drink some water before he walked to back to bedroom door. I followed him, stood in the doorway.

"So you're staying the night." He pointed out.

"Don't, Steve. You know nothing will happen."

Steve nodded, "just look after her? I can't stand seeing her like this."

I nodded looking back in the direction of her bed, "I will."

After Steve left, I walked back around her room. She was curled up underneath the duvet, her soft curls now knotted and tangled, spread across her pillow. She looked so peaceful, as the duvet slowly moved with her breathing. She yawned in her sleep, and her perfect round mouth opened slightly, her eyes fluttering a bit as she sighed and rolled.

I so desperately wanted to sit next to her, to hold her. But the amount she'd drunk tonight meant that she'd wake up with the hangover from hell. And she wouldn't want to wake up next to a man who she didn't remember going to bed with the night previous. So I settled for second best, and pulled the armchair over to next to the bed. I pulled the blanket over me and got settled.

In her sleep, her arm reached out, slipping under the covers. I reached mine out, weaving our fingers together. I saw a flash of a smile dance across her sleeping features as her small hand gripped mine, relaxing only when I squeezed back.