I Promise.

Punk.

Chapter 4
  "I'll be back soon!" I yell to Steve. My mom decided that we needed to get some groceries, so I wanted to go with her. I've never really got to spend time with her lately. After Sarah died, I figured I should cherish my mom more. I don't talk to her enough.
   "So, how's your new roomie?" My mom jokes.
  "Actually, it's been pretty enjoyable. Steve's super clean, and he respects my own space. He's basically perfect. Besides the near death experiences every week." Steve has basically been a blessing to me. I've known him since I was young, and he's continued to stay with me. We've had our differences, but I can't imagine a life without him. He's everything to me. Even when I felt like I had nothing, I had Steve. I'd give him the world. He is my world.
  "I'm glad you're taking care of him. Sarah would be proud of you." My mom smiled at me. She knew how close I was to Sarah. She was basically like a second mother. It got me to thinking about my last talk with her. She asked Steve to leave her room so she could have time with me. Steve knew something was up. She never talks to me without talking to him too. She sat me down on the chair next to her bed. She made me promise her that I would take care of him for as long as he lived. She knew how much I loved her son. She knew how much we loved each other, even if Steve was completely oblivious. Steve completes me. He's my everything. She told me that she trusted me, and that she loved me. The hardest part was walking out of the room and seeing Steve. He kept asking me questions, and I couldn't tell him. She told me not to tell him. It hurt. It hurt so bad. He was yelling at me. He was calling me names, names that hurt. He kept telling me to fuck myself, go back home, and go to hell. He was calling me a bastard. He was doing things that weren't Steve. He was hitting me. He was furious. I snapped. I punched him square in the jaw. Then I walked out and slammed the door. He took the hit like a champ. My goal has never been to hurt him, dear god I never want to hurt him. We were both frustrated. We were both upset. We both wanted Sarah to live, but we both knew Sarah living was just a selfish desire, so we took it out on each other. We were screaming and punching. He hits pretty hard for a tiny little kid.
  "Earth to James!" My mom was waving her hand in front of my face. "I'm finished checking out. Can you help grab the groceries?"
   "Yeah, sure. Sorry I was just... thinking." I said.

   I walked up the stairs to our apartment. My mom unlocked the door and we started putting the groceries in the fridge and pantry. There was one thing that was strange though; Where was Steve? Whenever he would hear me come home, he would run down the stairs to see what we got. I didn't hear his shoes. I didn't hear his laughing. I decided to walk closer to our door and then I heard it.
   "Sam, I'm not sure what to do," Steve's voice cracked. "I just don't want to ruin anything. He means everything to me. I love him." I heard Steve start to break. I wanted to run and hug him, but I didn't want to intrude, not that this wasn't intruding.
   "Sam, I just... Even when I had nothing I had Bucky. He's my world. He's all I have left to live for." Steve was crying now. Steve barely ever cries.
  "Thank you, Sam. Have a good night." Steve finished. I heard him put his phone down on the nightstand and plop down on his bed. I heard him break. I heard his voice crack. I heard him break down. He's scared of me? How does he not know? Natasha always tells me how obvious I'm being. My conscious is having two arguments.
Tell Steve.
Hide this from Steve as long as you can.
  Telling Steve is really sounding quite convincing right now, but he's already so confused. He doesn't know himself yet. It's different for me. Even from a young age I knew I loved people. Not anyone specific. I just loved people. I love a person for a person. Steve is confused because he has feelings for a boy, not because he has feelings for me. I'm not going to shove the thought of
"Hey! Bucky is totally into you! You too should make out!" into him. He needs to understand everything. However, I don't want to keep hearing him cry, so I knocked on the door. I barely ever knock, but I feel like it was appropriate this time. I knocked, and then there was no response. I then decided that maybe saying who I am would be helpful. I rarely knock so of course he wouldn't let me in.
  "Stevie? It's me, Bucky. Can I come in?" I asked. I'm really worried about him. He sounds really upset. A part of me wants to tell him that I love him too, but I wasn't even supposed to hear the conversation. I feel awful.
  "Yeah. Come in." He spoke very softly, but I still could hear him.
I looked over and he was on my bed. He never goes onto my bed. I'm guessing he needed some sort of comfort, considering I wasn't home.
  "Sorry, I-I'll move." He said.
  "It's fine. I'll just sit down next to you." I said while motioning him to move over.
  "Are you alright? You never cry." I asked. I know what's wrong. I know it's not alright. I hate lying to him, but I can't intrude. I'm not going to make him do something he doesn't want to do.
  "Yeah, I'm just. yeah." He looked so sad. He tried to give me a little half smile, but it wasn't working. He always tries to smile when he's upset, but it never fools me. You can tell if someone is smiling by the look in their eyes. His eyes just look sad.
  "Steve, I care about you. You mean everything to me and more. I hope everything gets better. You don't deserve this." I said. As soon as I said that, he launched into me and hugged me.
  "You're all I have left." He mumbled into my chest. It hurt to hear that. "I've lost everything, but I haven't lost you." He whispered. I was stroking his back in an attempt to calm down his shaking. I wanted him to breathe. I could tell it was hard for him to catch a breath.
  "You'll never lose me, punk."
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                      11/04/2001
I fell asleep in Bucky's bed last night. I really didn't have much of a choice. After I had my whole crying fiasco he insisted I sleep with him. I guess I really freaked him out. He told me he loved me. He always tells me he loves me. I wish the "I love you" would mean what I wanted it to. He knocked on the door and found me crying after I hung up with Sam. Sam really was helpful to talk to, up until I started crying my eyes out. Sam offered me his full support. I'm glad to have him as a friend. He's always been super trustworthy, and I know he won't say anything to anyone else. Sam is basically like a strange, demented, angel. It's like God made him as a really scary experiment, and then sent him down as a bird. I still don't understand Sam's obsession with birds. Bruce said that he's going to get him a bird watching book for his birthday as a joke. I'm pretty sure Sam will take it seriously though. Bucky is asleep across from me. It's a school night, so we are supposed to go to bed early, but when do I do that? I always have too much on my mind. All day I haven't been able to stop thinking about last night. Bucky gives the best hugs. I still won't get over him saying "You mean everything to me and more." Last night's events are burned into my brain. I don't even think I slept that much last night. I couldn't help but watch Buck. He looked so peaceful. It was again inspiration for another drawing. The way the sun hits his face in the morning makes him look like an actual god. I tried to capture the best I could on the paper I had. It was just a piece of white paper lying around the room. I wanted to scribble it down before the image left my brain. I actually put the picture in last night's journal entry. The more I write in this journal, the more I don't want Bucky to see it. I've been hiding it in different places. One of my personal favorites is under my sheets. My pillow hides the lump of the journal. It's gotten a good bit thicker because of the drawings in it. Reading my journal back I've also noticed that my thoughts are so random. I'm not a writer or anything, but my lines are so snippy? Is that a word? It's all over the place. It's basically just a clusterfuck of my own emotions. I mean, I don't have anyone to impress by it, but sometimes it makes it hard to read. I shouldn't be nitpicking a teenage boys journal, but I think maybe I needed a bit of constructive criticism. I'm not exactly sure where I was going with this, but I'm just going to leave it at this. I should be going to bed anyways. Goodnight journal.
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I hope you enjoy this chapter! I'm always open to criticism or making new friends. Thank you so much for reading!!! xoxoxoxo <3
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