𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑, avengers [discontinued]

21

ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵒⁿᵉ
ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱ'ᵐ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵐʸ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ
ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵗʷᵒ
ᵀʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵃ ʷᵃˢᵗᵉ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃˡᵏ ᵐᵉ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ˡⁱⁿᵉ

⊱ ──── 《∘◦●◦∘》 ──── ⊰

The snow hit the window at a faster rate than before, the wind picking up to help the white rain fall. Though it had a soothing effect, the light and heavy thumps annoyed (Y/N) to no end. 

Homesickness was finally getting to her, though she wouldn't at all call it all homesickness. She could never stay put in an area so a physical place was without a doubt out of option, but it had to be more like the people there. All of it would cause exact problems like this. 

During the time she had spent in the hotel room, (Y/N) had learned one very important thing. For starters, the body of James Buchanan Barnes shared two minds. 

The 'Soldier', which she referred to as such or 'Winter, was the cold and emotionless side of the mind. However, he showed and he had his moments where he would blink of out the phase. He claimed very possessive over (Y/n) and was clearly the part of the mind that would kill without any hesitation. 

The other part of the mind was of course James. Not Buck, not Bucky. Just James. A victim of Hydra who suffered for 70 years, barely remembering anything from the days we considered himself a whole of a man. No, now he's only a shell who's been through things worst than words can describe. 

(Y/N) sighed. Despite her observation, they would do nothing good for her at the moment. Besides, James was hardly a persona displayed, simply watching limply, voided, as the soldier took control. 

The TV was on, but the volume was turned low so only she colors shined off of (Y/N)'s (S/C), dull eyes shining with the same bright tinges. A thick cover was pulled over her frame as her face nuzzling into the pillow, wishing sleep would consume her by now. 

As always, just as she was getting comfortable, the door opened. A grunt came from the soldier, almost asking out into the silent room where she was and if she was alive to which (Y/N) made no attempt to tell him where her location was.

Instead, he had to figure out himself. His footsteps were now louder and more evident to were he pinpointed himself, an incongruity to his light as a feather footsteps that he used around the suite and when he went anywhere else. 

A content noise came from the back of his throat as he saw her laying down on the couch. She propped her head on the armrest of the couch. His gloved-flesh hand rested on her head, rubbing her scalp a bit before he walked off.

Forcing her eyes open, she saw the soldier carrying someone tossed over his shoulder. That woke (Y/N) right up. ''Who is that?'' she asked. The soldier grunted, only lower this time, telling her that he wouldn't tell her exactly who it was.