Hello everyone! Back with another chapter!
Enjoy the chapter! :3
My time of peace did not last long.
Then again, who didn't see that coming? I have, like, the worst luck ever. Like, I'm not completely sure, but I have a feeling my guardian angel is face palming somewhere while my karma angel (or what the hell) is laughing its ass off. Point is, I was not undisturbed for long.
Either way, I was dancing to an awesome beat with Wanda and Tasha (or so I thought; they had mysteriously disappeared somewhere, although I know not where) when I feel a hand on my waist. It's not even a nice hand, it's a rough and pushy hand. Accompanied by this shitty hand an even shittier voice. And no, it definitely wasn't anyone from the Avengers.
"Havin' a fun time, angel?" The weird-ass (and grubby) man behind me says, and I almost flip my shit. Holy fuck. I've read about these types of people before. I've seen them. Oh God no.
I giggle nervously (actually, I just do this weird nervous sound, but call it whatever you like) and begin dancing further away, only to be restrained by a second hand. FUCK. Damn it, Tony! Why do you give alcohol to these assholes?! Some clearly can't control themselves and their... urges.
Hell, forget I ever said that.
"I'll show you an even better time, eh?" He says, grinding his hips into my ass. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Now I'm angry. This piece of shit better not just see me as some sort of... fucking... sex-object! I'll show him. This is not how Ebony Embers rolls. Ever.
"How about no," I hiss back, jamming my foot down into his. He yelps, but it apparently makes him even angrier. Well, fuck. Any other good ideas, part-drunk Ebony? No? Great. He's got an even tighter hold on me now, and if I could see myself in a mirror, my eyes would probably be brimming with panic. And maybe tears. Who knows.
"How about yeah," he says back, and now I'm hyperventilating. Great. Not. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Agh. This guy's so horny, a ram would be jealous. Hah. Get it? The ram has horns- never mind. Now's not the time for pathetic puns. I'm in a situation here.
"Get off me," I snarl, trying to push his hands off of me. But no bananas. While I am strong, I am not fucking Hercules, thus I cannot remove this dude's hands. It discomforts me in the best. I think I'm absolutely terrified now.
"But baby-" Good Lord, this fucker I swear. But apparently he gets cut off by something (which I can't see. My eyes are scrunched shut, trying to pretend this isn't real), because his grip loosens by a fraction. Then, I hear an all-too-familiar voice.
"You heard the lady. Fuck off."
Oh my God-
IS THAT JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES TALKING RIGHT NOW?!
The dude (whose face I never see, by the way) unwraps his hands off me, apparently stepping back. Just when I think he's gone, though, I feel a sharp slap on my face.
"Fucking slut," grimy dude says (what a piece of shit! He's lucky I didn't see him, or else I would've gone after him and beat the looney tunes out of him), before I can hear him stepping away. That ass actually slapped me! What the fuck?! Apparently, I'm not the only one who's extremely pissed at this, because I open my eyes to see a glowering Bucky Barnes. And no, surprisingly he's not actually glaring at me. Well, that's a first.
Suddenly, I feel awfully dizzy. Maybe it's because the person that hates me just rescued me or maybe it's just because I'm hyperventilating. I could think it's a combination of the two, but either way, I feel dizzy.
"Easy now," Bucky says, catching me like I'm a freaking feather when I tumble over. Well, this can't get any less embarrassing. "What'd you do to get involved with that guy?"
I shake my head, carefully getting to my feet without having to push off him (seriously, I don't need to add to my mortification) and reply somewhat shakily, "He just came up to me."
His face is impassive, and he nods. Well, this is more than confusing now. The problem with this fucker in front of me is that he's very similar to me. Dark life (and past) and especially face unreadable. You can't tell what he might do next, or what he's thinking, which really bothers me for obvious reasons of me hating to be kept in the dark. Then, he just gives me a small smirk, and before I can give an eye-roll back, he's gone. Great.
Well, if this isn't confusing as fuck, then I don't know what.
The party finishes off, and everyone takes their leave. I bid goodnight to everyone else who's still here because 1) they're cleaning up (aw, Steve. You lovely man), 2) they just wanna be there (Clint makes no sense) or 3) they're still drinking (I'm looking at you, Tony). Then, I step out of the large room into the elevators, pressing level seven as usual. I am still sort of in disbelief that Bucky would want to save me from that asshat in the first place. I thought he'd just see me, laugh and leave. Maybe his 1940s act decided to drop in so he just did it out of sheer tradition. A billion thoughts were racing through my head, which is probably why I didn't notice that Bucky had entered the elevator as well until the doors finally closed.
Good job, Ebony. You never cease to amaze.
I try to look casual by just leaning back, ignoring my brain screaming at me and trying to cover said internal screaming from my eyes. He glances over at me, and smirks.
"Feeling better?"
I give him a look that could break down a car. Okay, first, that was an extremely wrongly-worded question. Second, I'm pretty sure he doesn't even give a fuck. It's like he's asking to be slapped. Or it's like I'm asking to get slapped. Whatever. Either way, it feels like a slap to the face and like I want to slap him back for that.
"Just fine," I reply through clenched teeth, my posture tightening a bit. I'm having none of his bullshit.
He turns to look at me, but says nothing. "Good. That guy was an idiot."
That's when I noticed that his flesh knuckles were a soft red. Was that... blood? Oh God. Fuck. He's hurt, isn't he? Why do I care? What the hell? When he notices to where my gaze travels, his smirk drops.
"Don't worry, it's not my blood," he says. Oh wow. Thanks. Like that's supposed to make me calm down. Dude! He probably just beat someone to a pulp! Whoever he decided to bash today should be lucky that they might just not be dead! What the fuck?!
I raise my eyebrows, then decide to speak (although really, I'm scared my blood might join those knuckles). "So... whose is it?"
Okay, don't even ask why I asked that. Who knows, maybe he'll tell me he decided to bash up Slenderman. Hey, the possibilities are endless. So really, please don't get mad I asked that. I just did.
He turns to me again, a playful smirk back on his face illuminating his eyes. "None of your business."
Great, he's being mysterious again. Just fucking dandy. Alas, while playful man often makes appearances now, the creepy magician occasionally returns to mix things up. Ugh. Looks like I won't get anything else out of him. But... I have to do something. And what I'll do next is probably something my pride will hate me for... forever. Yep, sounds about right. I'll do it anyway.
"Um... thanks, by the way," I manage to get out before averting my eyes to the mirrored walls. However, I can still see him smirking at me now, but the smirk is somewhat... softer. Less just played off. It's actually genuine.
"It's... fine," he replies, the words sounding forced or strained. Okay, now I'm confused. Why is he feeling this is forced? Maybe he just hates me so much he can't even take a fucking 'thank you'. Great. But seriously, why are those words so forced?
I ignore it, feeling relieved when the doors to the elevator open. Ugh, thank God. At least I don't have to stand in awkward silence with someone who I supposedly hate and supposedly hates me back.
I begin walking out, and then feel a tad confused as we both walk next to each other. Well, this just can't get any less awkward. Why does this always happen to me, life?! Why?! Ugh.
He seems clearly unbothered. You know what, two can play that game! Bring it on!... Yes, I'm aware by now I make everything I do with him seem like a competition. Just... deal with it. I give my best face of a #unbothered look, then just keep walking like I own the hallway. He yet again makes no comment. When we reach the front of our doors, I turn to face him to say goodbye (don't ask. I just happen to have an instinct to try to be polite).
Okay, now he looks surprised. Clearly he was not expecting this. Well, don't worry dude. I wasn't either. I feel heat creep up my neck upon realising that we're in rather close proximity. I am way too awkward for my own good right now. I give a weak smile and say, "Um... bye?"
Yes, I sort of finished that statement hesitantly. How do I even say goodbye to someone in this close proximity?! I can't even think straight! Goddammit. I am literally expecting anything right now; a laugh or even a huff and then a door slammed into my face.
What I did not expect however, I would've never seen coming in a million, bajillion years.
He leans forward and kisses me.
Ahhhhh! I left it at a cliffhanger!... Please don't kill me.
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