I Promise.

Kindergarten.

Chapter 13
Mrs. Barnes barged into the room early that morning. Bucky was spooning me, and I was praying he wouldn't move his arm any further down.
  "Up, boys. It's 4 AM." Mrs. Barnes said. Bucky groaned into my neck.
  "Maaa, I don't wannaaa." He complained. I elbowed him in the ribs. I needed to get him up before she kills him. "Fuck, S t e v e." He groaned. Now I really hope he doesn't move his hand down. Dear god, I need to go to the bathroom.
  "Seriously, get up. Both of you." She said, walking out of the room. She made sure to leave the door open.
  "Bucky, get up. We have to start leaving. The car is already packed." I told him. It was 4 AM and I didn't want to deal with this. "You can sleep in the car, just get up."
  "Ugh. Fine. You can use the bathroom first." He said, sitting up to yawn. I sure was hell hoping he'd say that. I needed time to calm my body down. It was early in the morning, and I wasn't ready for this. I really don't want him to look at me stand up. I don't want him to see me. I grabbed my jeans and a grey sweater. I'm not sure where I got this sweater, but it sure is comfortable. It might be one of Bucky's old ones. The jeans I chose also  hug me tighter than all my other ones. I guess they could be considered skinny jeans. I brushed my teeth, combed my hair, and got dressed. This wasn't one of my best outfits, but I liked the way these jeans fit me best. Most of my jeans are skinny jeans, those are the only ones that can really fit me. I take a deep breath and walk out of the bathroom. I'm not sure my body can handle seeing Bucky shirtless again. Thankfully, I found Bucky with the sheets over his face, blocking his face from the light. I grabbed a pair of my socks and put on my shoes. Just a pair of plain white converse. Mine were high tops, I liked those best on my feet. I rolled up the bottom parts of my jeans. It was a strange fashion statement, but my jeans were always too long for me. I walked over to the left side of my bed, that's the side Bucky slept on and I pulled the sheets up from over his head. His eyes snapped open and he looked at me. His eyes were so beautiful, they were steel blue. Plus it complemented his dark brown hair so well.
  "I'm not playing around. Get up." I said as seriously as I could. He looked at me. He scanned me up and down until he eventually locked eyes with me again. It was so faint I could barely hear him, and if I wasn't looking at him I wouldn't have seen it or heard it.
  "I'm scared to get in the car." He murmured. That was the first time I'd seen him like that. He had genuine fear in his eyes.
  "You'll be okay. I promise." I touched his left shoulder. He eased into my touch. I felt him swing his legs over the side of the bed.
  "I'm going to the bathroom. Can you grab the clothes off of my bed and hand them to me?" He asked.
  "Yeah, sure." I handed them to him.
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  "I'm going to the bathroom. Can you grab the clothes off of my bed and them to me?" I asked.
  "Yeah, sure." Steve walked to the edge of my bed and grabbed my clothes. He handed them to me and I walked to the bathroom. I wish I could've told him how nice those jeans looked on him. My mind was too occupied on the fucking car wreck again. It's like I can't go one day without thinking about it. I just want to go one day. I grabbed my toothbrush and started brushing. I'm getting a good bit better at this stuff. It's a lot easier to use my right hand for everyday tasks now. I was finally able to wash the egg pan yesterday, Steve looked proud. That's a good thing to think about. Steve. He's been so supportive. Even when I'd snap at him, he'd still love me. I still remember when his hand collided with my face. It stung a lot, physically and emotionally. I couldn't sleep that night. I was up all night just staring at the ceiling. There were times when I'd start crying, but it was mostly just staring. I went downstairs to check on Steve. I noticed he didn't walk down there with a blanket, so I grabbed mine and put it on top of him. I'm always hot when I'm sleeping, so I was fine sacrificing my blanket. I'd rather shiver than him.
  There's always only two things on my mind, the car crash and Steve. Steve is a really good distraction from reality. When I stare at him, everything just disappears. Everything bad just goes out the window. I'm head over heels for him; I always have been. He makes me feel loved. He makes me feel special.     My thoughts were interrupted when I realized I forgot that I grabbed a long sleeve shirt. I haven't tried to put one of those on, and I'm sure I'd need a bit of help, however I can put on my jeans. They're black distressed jeans. Nothing special. I had a mustard yellow sweater that I grabbed out of my drawer yesterday, but I can't get it on myself. I tried, but the sleeves were flying everywhere. It was a complete mess.
  "Steve?" I said through the door. I don't think he could hear me. I tried again, a little louder.
  "Steve?" This time he heard me.
  "Yeah?"
  "I need your help." I hated asking for help, but I needed to get changed. I unlocked the door and opened it and Steve walked in. I'm still trying to get used to the one arm thing, so I still need help with some simple tasks.
  "I can't get my sweater on." I said. I sounded so miserable. He grabbed my sweater and motioned for me to come closer. He put it over my head while standing on the tip of his toes and I pulled my right arm through. He tied the left sleeve of my sweater into a knot so it wouldn't dangle everywhere.
  "There you go. Anything else?" I questioned actually asking him this, but then I figured I probably should. I didn't want my pants to fall down everywhere. These ones were a little looser in my waist.
  "Can you-" I stopped and sighed. God, this is embarrassing. "Can you do my belt?" Steve chuckled.
  "Yeah, I can do your belt." He laced the black belt through the different loops of my pants. He pulled my hips closer to him so he could buckle it together. When he finished, his hand lingered on the belt. He let go as soon as he realized what he was doing. Part of me wanted him to keep going. I wanted him to continue. Another part of me knew that it was early, and Steve wasn't thinking straight.
  I look in my closet and pulled out a pair of black combat boots. I felt like that would look the nicest with these jeans. These jeans hugged me in all the right places.
  "Do you need any help?" Steve asked. He'd been watching me, probably waiting for the moment when I asked him to tie my boots. That moment was now.
  "Yeah. I do." He immediately came over and got on his right knee. He tied both of my shoes.
  "Tight enough?" He asked. I felt like a kid going to kindergarten. This sucked.
  "Yeah. Thanks, Dad." I joked. This definitely felt like a father and son moment. Steve laughed.
  "Let's go. Your mom's waiting for us downstairs."
  "Alright."
As soon as we approached the car I could feel myself freak out. I'm terrified. I'm scared to get into another accident. I realized that both Steve and my mom were waiting for me to enter the car. Steve offered me his hand.
  "You'll be okay. I swear." He said, softly. That was enough to lure me into the car. I sat behind the driver's seat. The left side of the car. The side of the car where I lost my arm. The side of the car where I lost my dad. I felt myself starting to panic. I couldn't focus on anything. I wanted to grab for Steve's hand, but I couldn't reach for him. I just sat there, staring at the ground. Steve put his hand on my thigh and started rubbing circles. It tickled me underneath the fabric of my jeans. Now this was something I could concentrate on. They were small circles, much like the ones I'd make on his back. They were slow and they'd linger. It was kind of putting me to sleep. Is this what it's like for him when I do this? Because I could definitely get used to this. I leaned my head against the window and started to doze off. It's much better this way. I won't have to focus on all the cars.