I Promise.

Steven Grant.

So before I start the chapter I just wanted to say thank you for literally anyone who is reading this! I also wanted to say that I made Spotify playlists based on each of the main characters with music from this era (extending to 2002). It was a really cool concept in my head, and it's actually really cool to listen to! My Spotify name is tripletemma and you should totally listen to them!!!

Chapter 2
10/22/2001
I'm not exactly sure how I've managed this, but you'd sure be proud of yourself. Somehow you were able to convince Coach to let you sit out in PE? I'm still surprised on how that worked, but I guess the "my mommy died" excuse works better than the "if you make me run a mile I may actually die" excuse. I'm not really sure how that one works and the other one doesn't, but hey I'm not complaining. Less physical activity the better. I don't think my tiny body would be able to handle it. Bucky, Clint, and Thor on the other hand, are absolutely killing it. I'm not exactly sure how they do it. It's like they find joy in being tortured by the PE gods. I'm also not sure if Tony like pays the teachers or something, but right now he's running at the slowest possible pace. I wouldn't even call it running. I'd call it pathetically walking. Even I can run better than that, and I'm an asthmatic. I'm also realizing how insane I probably look sitting here alone, watching my friends run, while writing in an old, worn out journal. Another thing- I'm not exactly sure what's going on with my feelings. Every time I look at Bucky, something happens? It's really hard to explain. It's like the asthma kicks in but I can still breathe. It's not like anything I've felt before. It's really started happening early this year. I've always had a soft spot for him, and he's always been my best friend, but this feels so different. I notice everything. His steel blue eyes. His strong arms. His perfectly wavy brown hair. The way his smile is slightly crooked on the left side. The way he grabs me by the shoulders and hugs me. Everything about him is flawless. There's no questioning why the girls go after him. He's gorgeous. These feelings are strange. I want to push them away and say it's wrong, but at the same time it feels so right. He feels so right. This feels so right.
"Hey bud, what are you writing?" Bruce strutted over to ask me.
"You shouldn't be over here. You can get in a lot of trouble, Bruce." I warned him.
"You didn't answer me. What are you writing?" He asks again.
"Some things I don't want to say out loud, that's all." I put on my fakest smile. I can't let anyone know about what I'm writing. Normally I'd tell Buck, but I feel like that would be a bit awkward right now
"Banner! Finish your last lap!" The coach yelled.
"Told you." I teased.
"Yeah yeah, it was nice talking to you."
"Right back at you."
10/23/2001
Is it wrong to draw him as he's sleeping? I really can't help it. I'm not exactly sure what's gotten into me. Maybe my body is confused? I mean, my mom just died last week. I'm sure my brain is just trying to think of a coping mechanism, and that's Bucky. This will all pass. These strange feelings will pass. He just looks so peaceful right now. His bed head always was something special. His hair is sprawled all over his face, his arm is behind his head, and he has the most peaceful look on his face. It's almost as if he's smiling while he's sleeping.
"Shit. Smoke." I mumble under my breath. I guess I've been too distracted to notice the smell. I'm a severe asthmatic, so even the slightest smell can set me off. It's really strange, but then again I'm really strange. Bucky's dad is a heavy smoker. He normally takes it outside, but sometimes he'll sneak a cigar inside. The thought of my asthma must've slipped right past his head. The apartment is larger than ours was, but still really cramped and tight. Winnifred and George's room is across from Bucky's room, and that means the smoke is traveling right into our living space. I feel it happening. The coughing. The pain. Dear god the pain. I can't breathe, dear god I can't breathe. It hurts. It hurts so much. I can't stop coughing. Dear god please make it stop.
I reached to pull of my shirt so I could breathe, but I don't have enough strength. Dear god please just get it off. The collar just feels like it's choking me.
"Stevie?" Bucky calls out.
I can't answer.
"Steve???" He's panicking now. It's dark and he can't see me, and he can't find the switch for the lamp.
I still can't answer.
"Steven. Steven Grant?" Bucky is pleading now. I'm trying to respond, but the coughing won't let me. My asthma attacks have never rendered me speechless, but I think this is more than that. I think I'm having an anxiety attack.
Bucky finally found the lamp and he rushes by my side. He's known me for years, and knows exactly what to do. He sits me up, and takes off my shirt. It's easier for me to breathe without tight clothing restricting my neck. He tries to get us to breathe in sync.
"Follow my lead."
I try to follow, but dear god the coughing. It's getting better, but my throat hurts to much to even attempt to speak. I notice there's blood on Bucky's chest in the exact same place my hand was. I guess the coughing stressed my throat out.
"Cigar." I wheezed. He seemed confused at first, but then ran out of the room. I heard him screaming through the door at his dad.
"God damnit, Dad! Are you trying to fucking kill him? Pretty sure we don't want another one dead." Bucky screamed.
They had a pretty lengthy conversation, so while they were talking it gave my body time to calm down. I had no idea what they were talking about, but it must have been serious enough to make Bucky's nose sweat when he walked back in the room. Bucky's body was really strange. He doesn't really sweat that much, but when he does sweat it's normally his nose. Whenever he's working out or stressed out the top of his nose sweats. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one that's noticed that though.
"Bucky, I-" Bucky cut me short. He grabbed me and just...held me? That wasn't usual Bucky behavior, so I was really confused. He always touches me, but he never holds me. That's when I realized he was shaking. Violently shaking.
"God damnit, Steve. You scared me shitless." He said into the crook of my neck.
"I'm really sorry, Buck." I apologized.
"It's not your fault. I just-" He stammered. "I'm just scared to lose you, that's all."
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H e e h e e. Sorry if this is absolutely boring you to death, I SWEAR IT GETS BETTER! It's going a bit slow right now but it will pick up I swear! I pre wrote all the chapters to make sure I didn't abandon this fic, so posts will be frequent! If you made it past: thank you for reading! xoxoxo

I'm always down for making some new friends or getting new fic ideas!!! If you ever want to critique my story or give me some love, you should totally contact me!
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