The fine line between good and bad is always blurred.
Living the life of a fugitive for over a decade, Adeline is approached about a job prospect. The mission is simple; recover the Tesseract.
Little did she know at the time, but that one decision...
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"I need men clothes. Though come to think of it you seem kinda small."
"Are you going through a change you wanna tell me about?"
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"Bucky?" Within a second his body visibly locks up from the sound of my voice, head swivelling around in alarm. Recognising I've probably scared him or freaked him out from the way his blue eyes flick alertly around I drop the cloak, holding out my hands "Whoa it's just me." Recalling that the last time I'd seen him was when he pulled Steve from the river I ask cautiously "Do you remember me?" His expression gives away nothing. Bucky's hard eyes remain on me as I try to decipher how he's feeling or better yet, what the hell he's doing following me. Nodding more so to myself at his silence, I ask again "Are you staying nearby?"
Once more I'm greeted with silence and staring.
There's no trust for him to give.
Pursing my lips I reach out and grab the handles of my trolley, swiveling the vehicle to face towards the street. Knowing this is Steve's best friend, brother, who's followed me I turn back to offer Bucky. "2A Saint Ann Street. I live above the Lavos bar. There's a stairwell around the corner." Without thinking too much on the fact that I just gave an ex-HYDRA assassin my address, I pitch "If you want a place to stay... I have one." Leaving him to whatever thoughts might be rattling around in that mind of his I dart back out into the street and continue my journey home.
It takes two struggling trips to get all the shopping upstairs but I manage. Plastic bags scattered across the island bench I begin stocking up the pantry and fridge. Shoving the wasteful plastic into the bottom of the pantry I pace around the kitchen island to get my new white bed sheets on. With a newly made bed of fresh sheets, I run back into the kitchen to work on the idea of candy in mason jars. Perhaps give a but of a younger touch to the engraved expense of walls. It's as I'm pouring the skittles into the jar that I realise I watch too much reality tv. Not in the past year of course but before that I had an absurd obsession with the Kardashian/Jenner clan.
Don't judge me I'm only human... I suppose.
It's as I'm pouring the third packet into the jar that I hear my front door creaking open. Raising my eyebrow I move further into my kitchen to see Bucky standing unsurely in the threshold, unmoving. He's hesitant about coming inside. I suppose I can understand with everything he's gone through. I'd be hesitant to come into a strangers apartment too. Tossing the packets into the bin, I round the island and stand in front of the archway. Hoping my smile is friendly and not frightening I gesture around the apartment "You want to come in or stand there all afternoon?"
