haven ; 𝐛. 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 , 𝟏

026. it's fate

TWENTY-SIX—IT'S FATE
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MY HEART WAS in my throat as I shifted my wide eyes from Bucky to Sam and back again so many times that my vision started to blur. "What happened?" I asked breathlessly, at the same time that Bucky said lowly, "When?"

Sam reached up and ran a hand down the side of his face. "I don't know. I was just barely able to get out of there before..." he paused, then met my eyes. "Do you mind if I change into another set of Cade's clothes? Mine are kind of..." he trailed off and gestured to the pathetically dirty clothes he was wearing. They were vaguely familiar when I really looked at them, but the thick layer of dirt and grime on them covered up any kind of resemblance to my brother's clothes. 

"Yeah, sure," I answered as Bucky said, "I guess."

My best friend cocked an eyebrow and scoffed, an amused grin growing. "Figures," he mumbled, "Steve was right." He pushed past us and went to Cade's old room, where Bucky had practically moved in. 

When I looked up at Bucky, he was blushing furiously. Rolling my eyes, I followed Sam to the room and let out an indignant, "Excuse me? What do you mean, Steve was right?"

He didn't reply for at least a few minutes, while he rummaged in the dresser drawers and the closet for a new shirt and pants to wear. Finally, he shrugged and answered, "The night we left you guys here, Steve told me that you'd probably succumb to his...charms. Of course, I believed that you would keep things strictly professional around here. But then again, you were always a hopeless romantic." He turned around and grinned, holding a new shirt with a look of triumph. 

My jaw went slack as the words sunk in. "You...made a bet?" 

Sam shrugged again. "It was good for morale. The nights got pretty lonely, just the two of us. Now," he added, "if you don't mind, I'd like to change without you and Barnes ogling my irresistible physique." Winking, he walked up to the door and closed it, leaving us in the dark hallway. 

"God, he makes my skin crawl," Bucky whispered, grabbing my wrist and pulling into the kitchen. Running a hand through his hair, he blew a breath out of his lips. "He can't just come in here, warn us, and then refuse to tell us anything more than 'you need to leave.'" He rolled his eyes and stuffed his hand in his pockets. 

I scoffed. "Come on, don't do this now."

"Do what?" He flicked his eyes up to mine. 

"That whole testosterone, manly protectiveness thing. Not a fan." I waved a dismissive hand. I loved it when he whispered my name, when he brushed a hand over my hair, sure, but that didn't mean I wanted any of that other stuff. It was unnecessary, and rather annoying if you asked me. 

Bucky's mouth fell open, about to reply, when Sam came back into the kitchen and cracked his knuckles, crossing his arms. "Okay, El, it's time to go."

"What are you talking about? You don't really think I'm just going to pack up and leave without an explanation, do you?" I reached for the cabinet, pulling down a coffee mug. "Let me make you a cup of coffee and you can tell us all about it, sound good?" Though my voice was steady, my hands shook so much that I was afraid I would drop the mug and shatter it on the floor. 

"Elda, we don't have time for coffee and chitchat," Sam said lowly. "We need to get out of here. They're coming."

Inhaling a shaky breath, I struggled to keep myself calm as the words sunk in. I ducked my head so they couldn't see me squeeze my eyes shut to keep the darkness there, centering me as the world began to spin around me. A hand hovered over my shoulders, squeezing with a gentleness that could only belong to Bucky.