It's a Monday, Bucky hates Mondays, and he especially hates them when he's trying to get ready for the day and he's turned into Captain Butterfingers. You know, those kind of days when you drop everything you pickup, and everything just seems to go wrong? But he takes a deep breath and decides to hit the reset button on the day. So, he shleps down the hall to the bathroom and starts making a mental list of everything he needs to accomplish. He looks at himself in the mirror, shuffling his hair this way and that, and decides it needs a trim. If he does it now he can shower after, and then head out for his errands. He goes in the closet and fetches the box with his hair cutting supplies and gets everything all plugged in.
He's rounding his ear when he sneezes, "Fuck me…!" So much for his day going better…
He hears a snicker outside the door, Darcy hasn't left yet? "I would but you've been kind of sending mixed messages lately."
His breath catches in his throat, he doesn't say anything, hoping she'll just walk away and he can try to blend in the weird patch he'd just made. But typical Darcy, she pushes her way into the bathroom, still laughing.
"What are you doing!?"
"What does it look like?" He groans and turns to face her, leaning up against the sink.
Darcy rolls her eyes and yanks the clippers away from him, "Give me those, you're going to make a mess, well, more of a mess," she looks at her watch, "I have time, should I?" She waves her hand in the general direction of his head.
He sighs and sits on the toilet lid.
"I thought you were growing it out," Darcy mutters under her breath, examining his handiwork.
"And I thought you left for work already," he grumbles, a little more curtly than he means to.
"I came back to get my phone, left it on the nightstand," she looks at him, biting her lower lip, then shakes her head.
"Go on, say whatever you want to say," he says, their eyes locking on one another's. But she just shakes her head again, and motions for him to turn around. Silently she gets to work, carefully blending the shorn patch by his ear into the lengths of rest of his hair. When she's done, she dusts off his shoulders and blows gently on his neck to clear the trimmings off.
He stands, and admires her work in the mirror. It was a bit shorter than he'd planned on going, but it looked better than the awkward in between length it had been at.
"Looks good, thanks, Darc."
"You're welcome, Barnes," she says softly, "I'm gonna go, and um, I've got plans with Nat tonight, so don't wait for me for dinner."
She leaves, and Bucky gets in the shower, his mood sour. He didn't know why he couldn't just tell Darcy how he felt. And now she was pissed at him, he'd acted like an ungrateful jerk, and he hadn't even apologized… He let the water scald him for a while and then got out of the shower, got dressed, and headed out to tackle the day. Punching bag's gonna get a beat down tonight, he mused, gonna need to do something to take my mind off Darcy… Darcy, I love Darcy…
Current Threat Level: elevated