haven ; 𝐛. 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 , 𝟏

019. the new alibi

NINETEEN—THE NEW ALIBI
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I FELT ALL the oxygen leave my lungs in one second. I was standing there frozen, immobile for what seemed like hours, though it couldn't have been more than a mere moment.

She knows she knows she knows she knows--

"Who are you?" My mother asked him, the words obviously meant for Bucky but her eyes found mine. Filled with accusations that I couldn't decipher, I swallowed roughly and answered for him.

"This is...Michael," I stammered, trying desperately to be convincing. "He's...my boyfriend."

Bucky's eyes widened as if to say, that's all you could come up with? I grimaced back at him in a silent response.

"What's going on, ladies?" I heard my dad call from the living room, his steps getting nearer as he, too, joined this mess of a situation. "What are you—oh..." he trailed off as his eyes landed on Bucky, who was now pulling a shirt over his strong torso.

"Her boyfriend, Michael," Mom spoke, pointing gently at him. "Why didn't you tell us, Elda?" She crossed her arms and stared me down as I tried to come to grips with my impulsive reply.

I shrugged. "I don't know, I was just..."

"She wasn't sure you would approve of me," Bucky cut in slowly, brushing his shirt down over his abdomen, a surprisingly smooth movement, considering his one-armed status. "It's not every day your daughter meets someone like me," he added, holding out a hand in greeting.

My mother awkwardly shook his outstretched hand, stumbling over her words as she said, "we have no issue with Elda seeing someone with such a...disability." Her eyes flicked to his stumped shoulder. I looked over to my father and saw that his eyes were unblinking, unable to look away from the lack of a limb. The whole situation made me want to run myself over with a bus.

Bucky chuckled. "No, I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about the fact that I'm—" I shot him a look that told him to be very careful of his next sentence. His closed his mouth and grinned. "Well, let's just say that I'm a very unique individual."

I had to smirk at his remark. "That's quite the understatement, Buck," I mumbled, blinking up at him and blushing when I noticed that his expression mirrored mine.

My father shook Bucky's hand next, nodding in the typical masculine manner that usually befell fathers who were meeting their daughter's significant other for the first time. "Nice to meet you, Michael..."

"Carter," he answered the open question. "Michael Carter." The quick response startled me, causing my eyes to meet his again, the question clear. He shook his head slightly, just enough for me to see and understand. Later.

My dad smiled a tight-lipped smile. "It's nice to meet you, Michael Carter." He stepped back and waved a finger between the two of us, adding, "So how long has this been going on?"

"Would it be a completely awful idea for us to have this conversation somewhere other than the guest room? Perhaps in the living room?" I said, gesturing back down the hall.

"Yes, of course, sorry for the interrogation," Dad said, beckoning us to follow him. With my mother right behind him, I waited for Bucky and fell into step beside his taller figure. Close enough to pass as a couple, but far enough away that it wouldn't push his boundaries.

"Why were you so apprehensive about them staying here?" he whispered in my ear, and it was hard to focus on the question when his stubble scraped against my ear clumsily due to the movement. "They're so kind."