-immerges from pile of textbooks-
I liiiiiive!
Well, hello there! Exams are still going, but I'm managing!
Thank you all so much for the great feedback! Reviews make my lil' heart sing! I am beyond glad you found the phone call entertaining! I had a blast writing that one.
And with no further ado, here we go! Enjoy!
XoXo,
Lady Turwaithiel
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OCs
Of flowers, coffee and plum tarts
Chapter 4: A true menace
Sitting on his mattress, Bucky let his head rest on the wall behind him.
It all made sense now; the nervousness, the staring and looking away, the irregular breathing and shaking when he was around.
The girl didn't recognize him; didn't fear him. She liked him.
Relief washed over him, and then realization struck. He didnt know if he should be laughing or crying at the absurdity.
All the obvious clues had been there; the blushing and smiling and the dilated pupils, and yet the idea had not even crossed his mind, not until he heard her talking to her friend.
It would be an understatement to say he had tried really hard not to inform her that he actually understood every word she was saying, but he was aware that it would have been too embarrassing. He had wondered if he should inform her at all.
But, although she hadn't recognised him, he had yet to completely dismiss the possibility of her being a spy. If she was one, she was damn good; perhaps even the whole crush was a façade. Bucky couldn't know that though, not unless he got closer; and to do that, he would need to talk to her, see if there were any irregularities in her story and persona.
So he would eventually have to speak English to her, dangerous as that may be. He hadn't originally planned to talk to her so soon after the phone-call incident though; but life had other plans, it seemed.
He had just returned home when he heard a great racket coming from upstairs and a can of beans came rolling down the stairs and stopped at his feet. Then he heard the scream.
And in this kind of neighborhood, screams are usually bad news. So when he saw the girl sitting in the midst of scattered objects and drenched in something red, he felt his run blood run cold. It was after she had shown him the torn groceries bag that he noticed that broken bottle that used to contain sour cherry juice on the floor and was able to relax and appreciate the catastrophe around him.
As well as the moment when complete realization hit her. He was quite sure she was just about to throw down her things and flee.
It was interesting studying the girl up close. With just one meeting he had gained more information about her than a month of observing and hearing stories from Mrs. Adrianna had provided him with.
She seemed to use humor as copping mechanism. She didn't enjoy being addressed formally because it aged her up, which suggested fear of growing old.
Confirming earlier indications and judging from the contents of her bag, she had no idea about cooking.
She deeply cared for her work; she had ambitions and a clear plan about achieving them.
She was talkative and she was curious, but not nosy.
She clearly loved her home, and it was safe to assume she also loved her family; yet she had left it all behind. That, combined with the fact that she tried to refuse his help multiple times even though she clearly needed it, suggested that she craved independence. That could stream either from the fact that she considered herself a burden or that she wanted to be stronger; probably both.
She also liked muffins.
He found it hard to mistrust a person that was that heartbroken over a muffin.
Generally, she seemed honest. Her story added up to what she had told Mrs. Konstantinidou.
Bucky wanted to believe Chloe Paylor was what she appeared to be: a young sweet girl that was all smiles and blushes; that liked muffins and flowers and singing.
And apparently, him.
He snorted in amusement, but his smile soon dropped.
The idea hadn't even occurred to him, and he knew that he would have certainly taken wind of something like that before…before. Back when there was no chance of Bucky Barnes refusing a pretty girl some coffee; or not being the one to ask, for the matter. Back in the day when he would have offered to show her the city the very day she moved in; when he would at this point be familiar with her apartment. Perhaps with more than that.
Before.
Now, the very idea of a girl liking him... A part of him was certainly amused, and yes, even flattered, but it was a small part, and one he didn't linger on.
Mainly, it made him feel alone.
That very craving for companionship confused him. He knew that no one would stand by him, knowing who he was; and what could he himself offer to a companion? Emotionally he was drained and physically his body recognized proximity as a threat. And even if, somehow, he could overcome that, how could he trust himself close to anyone, when he didn't trust his own mind, when anything could trigger outbursts of extreme violence?
No, that chapter of his life was well and truly over.
He just hoped she got over it soon. Besides his own good interest, the girl herself would be better of turning her gaze elsewhere. Some boy her age, that would take her out to…well…
Bucky's eyebrows furrowed.
Where do people even go on dates nowadays?
He had no clue.
And he didn't want to think about it. These were the kind of thoughts that he had been avoiding all this time, and having them worm their way in didn't please him. He had, during some sleepless nights and despite his better judgment, caught himself thinking what his life could have been like if he had returned from the war. He had allowed himself those thoughts because they were impossible; because Bucky Barnes died in that war, because all the girls he remembered where gone, because even if he had made it out unscathed Steve still wouldn't be there to be his best man. Because these were not thoughts of a future but of past that never was, and could never possibly be.
The theoretical possibility of Chloe unsettled him. He didn't like her, but as soon as the prospect was presented to him, his mind had jumped to it; the same way you always look when someone tells not to look.
Anyway, amusing as her embarrassment was, he hoped this wouldn't last long. He didn't have it in him to be mean towards her on purpose nor did he expect he would have to. Some handsome boy would soon flirt with her, and that would be that. He wasn't vain enough to believe her interest extended any further than physical attraction.
Which, his own insecurities aside, Bucky still found incredibly amusing.
Still got it Barnes.
He didn't like her and he still suspected her, but he found that she didn't leave him indifferent either; he realized he was developing some kind of fondness for the kid. She seemed sweet, and oddly innocent, and yet somehow tough in her determination to remain kind in a place that wasn't. She was the kind of girl that he would have tried to introduce to Steve. He smiled as he imagined his friend's face if he witness her colorful vocabulary; something Bucky had found incredibly entertaining. To him, the foul language and boldness enhanched her naiveté further; like a child wearing their mom's high heels. He understood now why Mrs. Konstantinidou had asked him to look out for her: she was young, and sweet, and this place would tear her apart.
Unless, of course, if she playing them all for fools.
I can't know that. She's been here a month, and nothing has happened yet. If she's been planted here, she's either doing a bad job of lying low or a bad job of approaching me.
He sighed and got up. His tiny apartment, with its covered windows and old furniture grew claustrophobic during afternoons, when only a lamp illuminated the space.
I need to get some fresh air.
He was about to open his door when he heard the sound of two pairs of feet coming up the stairs, soon accompanied by female voices. One he recognized as Chloe's, the other one he wasn't familiar with.
The new voice was laughing.
"I hope you learned your lesson about assuming things."
"Okay yes, will you stop laughing about it?" echoed Chloe's tortured voice.
"Probably not. I will keep making fun of you until you graduate."
"Okay, I accept that, but keep your voice down!" Chloe said hushed tones, and Bucky heard the clanging of keys.
"Why?"
"Because the person who made this building hadn't herd of soundproofing, and I've embarrassed myself for a lifetime."
Bucky heard the door opening, and the other girl laughing.
"Well then, it's a perfect night to drown your sorrow in liquor."
Chloe laughed as her door closed, and the sound of voices became muffled. He could still hear the conversation easily, should he decide he wanted to. Which he didn't.
He opened and closed his door as silently as he could. Not that there was any fear of Chloe coming out to greet him; after the groceries incident, she was clearly too embarrassed to talk to him.
As he started descending the stairs, he decided to go for a run to the park, perhaps grab a drink in the pub after.
"Sergiu."
The stern, ominous voice stopped him on his tracks, as he turned to see Mrs. Konstantinidou staring at him from the open door of her apartment.
"Ma'am." he said in greeting.
She opened the door wider and stepped aside.
"Inside. Now." she growled.
Bucky knew better than to refuse.
As he entered the apartment, the old lady closed the door behind him and pointed the sofa.
"Sit."
With a sigh, Bucky obliged, and waited to be scolded. He didn't know what for yet.
Mrs. Adriana remained standing, hands crossed, eyes ablaze and foot tapping the ground rhythmically; silent and radiating annoyance.
Bucky waited, head leaning forward with eyebrows raised to indicate he was expecting to be told why he was there.
The old woman just pressed her lips together and exhaled sharply.
"What?" Bucky asked with genuine bewilderment.
"Don't you what me young man!" she snapped at him "Next time you want to lie, leave me out of it."
Bucky shook his head in surprise.
"What?" he asked again, shocked.
"You didn't have tea with me."
It took a few seconds for him to realize what on Earth she was talking about.
"What- Please tell me this isn't about me not having coffee with Chloe."
Mrs. Konstantinidou looked up in complete exasperation.
"Unbelievable!" she huffed, jerking her hands upwards "Not even a tiny bit of remorse!"
He sighed tiredly.
"I profoundly apologize for using you as an alibi."
"Ha! You're so insincere, you could be a politician." she growled but with smile, and went off to the kitchen to make tea, clearly pleased.
"How did you even hear about this?" Bucky raised his voice.
"Chloe picked my mail for me, the sweet darling!" she answered him over the sound of boiling water "Conversation came over to us having tea yesterday."
Her head popped from the kitchen door.
"And if you do find yourself using my as an alibi again, be smart enough to inform me about it!" she told him curtly.
"Duly noted."
"Not what I want to hear."
"Sorry, you are absolutely right and I'm in the wrong?"
She smiled and her head disappeared again from his line of vision, just for her to reappear holding a tray with two cups and some biscuits.
"Thank you." Bucky said, taking his cup.
"No problem, dear. Also…" she said sweetly, then smacked his head.
"Ow!" he said under his breath as some hot tea splashed on his leg.
"Why didn't you tell me you speak English?" she asked calmly and sat down opposite to him, sipping her tea as if she hadn't just hit a grown man.
Patting his pants with a napkin, Bucky raised his head an offered the elderly lady a small smile.
"You never asked."
She narrowed her eyes.
"You want me to smack you again?"
"No ma'am."
She leaned back to her chair and raised her cup to her lips.
"I thought so."
Bucky just ate a biscuit.
"So…" she said slowly, putting her cup down "Now that you two have met…"
"Mrs. Konstantinidou, if you're taking this conversation where I think you are, I'm leaving you."
"Don't call me that." she snapped by reflex and then placed her cup on the table. Bucky tried to hide his surprise as reached for his good hand. He tensed, but didn't pull away. She looked at him, her green eyes very serious and sincere.
"I'm just worried about you Sergiu…" she said softy and he was about to protest when she cut him off "I want to see you smile once and I mean an actual smile, not those faded things of yours that look like you're afraid you're doing something wrong ."
Bucky swallowed hard and took a breath.
"Mrs. Adriana-"
"I know you're going to tell me you're fine, but I'm a mother of four boys, I can't help but worry. I've never seen you with a girl or a boy, and I'd recon you're just not into any of that, it can happen, but I'm not only talking about just romance, dear; the only person you seem to spend time with is me, and I'm ninety-two! I'm aware of my virtues, but a young, smart man such as yourself should have friends his age, not shriveled old prunes like me."
But you are around my age.
He couldn't say that though, so he remained silent.
She sighed and patted his hand.
"I'm not telling you to flirt with Chloe, but she's a good girl, and closer to your age, and she in a place she doesn't know, and I think it would be good for the both of you if you were friends. Can't you just try, for me? So I can stop worrying?"
Bucky sighed.
"You are playing the 'for me' card a lot, and one of these days it's going to stop working."
She smiled.
"Now, you'd never break an old woman's heart like that."
"And you're taking a monstrous advantage of that."
She laughed and patted his cheek.
"You're a good boy, Sergiu." she said softly, and Bucky was about to smile, when she smacked his head.
"You let your tea grow cold, stupid." Mrs. Adriana scolded "But what to expect from boys? Never appreciated what I do, none of them!"
Bucky just sighed.
"As you say, ma'am."
"Of course as I say!" she huffed and took his cup to the kitchen to make him some fresh tea, muttering all the while.
Bucky was sitting on his couch, re-reading Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, feeling a small smile tuck at his lips as Alice kicked Bill the lizard out the chimney. He was starting to see where little Becky had gotten her attitude from.
After tea, he had gone for a run in Morarilor Park and had a glass of whiskey at the pub, as he had originally planned. He had also stopped by the cinema, to see what movies would be on this week. He had wondered the dark streets a little more, enjoying the cold air on his face, the sound Bucharest by night: the clattering of people laughing and talking in bars, the rushing of cars, the distant buzzing of TVs. He walked under the light of street lamps and neon signs, through main streets and dark alleys; and he savoured that he could, that he the freedom to do so, and when he grew tired, he returned home, showered and sat down to read his book.
That's when he heard shuffling down the corridor. He eyed the old clock on his wall. It was almost 2:30 am.
Frowning, he stood still, listening. Irregular footsteps echoed now, and Bucky slowly closed his book and looked over at a pocketknife that lay on the table.
And then he heard the distinctive sound of someone trying to unlock a door.
His door.
Silently he got up, took the knife and creeped across the room. His back against the wall next to the door, he waited in battle stance.
Someone had found him. Who? And most importantly, how? He knew for a fact he hadn't been followed.
Then it dawned upon him.
Chloe.
It must have been her.
He silently cursed himself for taking her so lightly, for being so trusting. His reluctancy to leave had now compromised him. He would have to leave now anyway, and he would have to do it without the goodbyes he could have said if he had had the good sense to run when she moved in. And he would leave a mighty fine mess behind, to get everyone on his trail even further.
Perhaps he could at least give the little snitch a good fright before he disappeared. He couldn't believe he had actually fallen for the awkward cute girl act.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
The sound of metal against his lock suddenly stopped, and he tensed, waiting for his door to open.
But then the footsteps echoed again, walking away from his door.
What is going on?
His scowled, listening carefully. He heard the sound of metal against metal again, close, but not from his door. There was only one apartment close enough to his to allow him to hear that clearly.
Whoever was down that corridor, was trying to get in Chloe's apartment now.
Burglars?
It didn't make sense. His and Chloe's doors were identical; if they failed to unlock his door, they certainly couldn't unlock hers.
A thud sounded from outside and Bucky froze.
It was quickly followed by the sound of a girl crying.
Bucky sprang into action immediately. He unlatched and unlocked the door, hid his knife behind his back, and opened the door, carefully stepping in the corridor…and locking eyes with Chloe's own bloodshot ones.
She was sitting on the floor, her back leaning on her very much closed door. There were black stains running down her eyes; disheveled hair that she must have styled in a bun at some point during the day.
They looked at each other for a few silent seconds, before Chloe dropped her head in embarrassment and muttered.
"I can't unlock my door."
Bucky blinked and looked her over again: floral dress, knee-high stockings, nice leather jacket, currently running make-up and messy up-do. She had clearly been out, and remembering what he had heard the unknown female voice talking about that afternoon, there were plans for liquor to be involved.
Chloe looked up at him, with puffy eyes.
Slowly he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Yes Barnes, you nailed it. Absolute evil mastermind right there.
Opening his eyes, he gave her as stern a look as he could master.
"How much did you drink?" he asked softly.
"No, no, nonono, I'm not drunk if that's what you're insinuating here sir, not at all!" she said, words mixing together, as she nodded negatively many times "I'm just a bit tired, no need to worry."
Bucky barely managed to stop himself from laughing. He just smiled the kindest smile he could master, and approached her.
"How much Chloe?" he said, like a parent patiently asking his child to admit it was not in fact the cat who ate the cookies.
Chloe pouted and looked down at her hands.
"Just a couple of shots…" she said slowly, clearly trying to speak clearly.
"Of what?"
"I can't pronounce it, it's Romanian." she said sadly "But I'm not drunk, okay?! I never get drunk."
"Chloe. You confused our doors."
"They look alike."
Bucky sighed and reached for the key that lay next to her.
"Is this the key you were trying to unlock the door with?"
She looked at it.
"Yeah?"
"That's the mailbox key."
Chloe looked at it, blinked slowly, then looked back up at him.
"Oh."
Bucky chuckled silently at her confused gaze. Her already big eyes were wide and unfocused, and the only thing he could think of was a startled doe.
And then she burst out crying. Bucky froze for a moment, completely startled.
"You must think I'm so stupid!" Chloe said between sobs.
Bucky finally managed to shake away his surprise.
"I do not think that."
"Yes you do! Everyone thinks I'm so foolish, they do!" she said, hiding her face in her palms.
Bucky sighed and squatted right in front of her; and suddenly the entire scene nudged something in his memory, of another drunk, crying girl.
"Chloe…" he said slowly, but she only pulled her knees to her chest and hid her face there "Chloe look at me, please."
With a sniff, she raised her puffy eyes to meet his.
"I don't think you are stupid, and no one else does, for the matter. Okay?" he asked her slowly, and with another sniff and trembling lips she nodded.
"Good." he told her, never leaving her gaze. "I should get you in your apartment."
She burst down in tears again.
"You're such a good guy!" she slurred, tears streaming down her cheeks "And I've been so horrible!"
Bucky frowned.
"You've not been horrible."
"I have! You're such a good person and I have been talking about you like you're a piece of meat, and I know you heard me but you never said a thing, you're so nice, and I'm sorry!" Chloe said, among hysteric sobbing.
By this point, Bucky was unable to stop himself from chuckling, and he suddenly remembered that he absolutely adored drunk people.
"You don't need to apologize about anything."
"No, I do! You're like, such a kind person, and you've been so nice to me, and I was so shallow and you're more than a pretty face and I'm really so, so sorry!" Chloe suddenly looked up at him like a lost puppy "Will you forgive me?"
Bucky sighed.
"Yes Chloe, I forgive you for finding me attractive. Alright?"
Looking at him with watery eyes, she smiled the brightest drunken smile.
"Thank youuuu..."
"Now, are you keys in your bag?"
She nodded.
"Can I look for them, to help you with the door?"
She nodded again.
He reached at her bag, and started looking.
Lipstick…Wallet... Pepper spray…
Huh. Pepper spray. She does have some clue where she lives after all. Anyway, let's see, I don't even know what this is, no, wait, it's a phone. Those things have gotten weird…Tissues... Keys!
Fishing them out of her bag, and smirking slightly at the miniature potted plant keychain, he got up and unlocked the door. Then he turned back towards her.
"Can you walk?"
"I told you, I'm not drunk!" she said, and tried to get up, only to end up landing back on her butt.
Bucky just held a hand out.
She looked at his hand in confusion.
"Why are you always wearing gloves?"
Bucky froze.
She's drunk Barnes. She's not interrogating you.
"I'm sorry!" she interrupted his thoughts almost immediately, looking at her feet in complete horror "I shouldn't have asked that, it's not my business, I'm so sorry!"
"It's not a problem. Now let's get you up, okay?"
Never taking her swollen eyes from the floor, she took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.
After she steadied herself, he let go of her; a bad idea, as it turned out. At the first step she took, she tripped, and if his reflexes weren't as good as they were, she would have landed face-first on the floor.
"How did you even manage to get here?" he said, mildly impressed, as he helped her steady herself, this time passing her hand over his shoulder and grabbing her by the waist.
"I got a taxi…" she slurred "And I went up the stairs veeeeery slowly. They were spinning, for some reason."
"I wonder why."
"I'm not drunk, I don't get drunk, I'm a heavyweight."
"I'm sure you are…" he agreed, half walking, half dragging her in her apartment and looking around for the light switch "Now let's get you in bed, okay?"
"You're such a good person." she mumbled again.
"Okay." he told her softly, finally managing to turn on the light "Which door is your room?"
She whined softly as the light hurt her eyes, and Bucky felt his muscles tense as her head lolled on his shoulder and she buried her face on the crook of his neck in order to protect her pained eyes. Behind the smell of alcohol, the faint scent of peaches came to his nose.
"Second one on the left…" she muttered.
He opened the door and laid her on her bed. Chloe just stared at ceiling. In sure movements that seemed familiar and yet foreign to him, Bucky took her shoes and socks off, and made sure she was lying in a safe distance from the edge of the bed.
Chloe just mumbled incomprehensively.
"Don't move." Bucky instructed her, and headed out the door. Her apartment seemed to mirror Mrs. Konstantinidou's, so figuring which door lead to the kitchen was easy enough.
Opening the light, he faced a small kitchen with yellow paneling, the window lined with fairy lights and the still covered with small houseplants and a watering pot.
Seems about right…
Opening and closing cabinets, he eventually found where she kept the glasses, opened the tap and frowned at the brown water coming through.
Her pipes must be rusty.
After a while, the water cleared and he filled the glass. He then headed to the bathroom, where he eventually discovered her medication stack and retrieved an aspirin.
Re-entering her room, he found Chloe fast asleep.
He carefully placed the water and the aspirin on her bedside table, covered the glass with a napkin, and opened the door.
"Sergiu…" a small voice echoed behind him.
He turned; Chloe was looking at him, blinking slowly as she tried to keep her eyes open.
"Thank you…" she mumbled.
Bucky nodded and exited the room, letting her sleep.
Making sure he had shut all the lights, Bucky walked back on the living room, looking at the insane amount of plants near the windows in slight amusement. He then looked back at the bedroom door and sighed.
A true menace indeed.
He left the apartment silently, locking the door behind him and sliding the keys under the crack beneath; back inside her house.
Entering his own home, he eyed the small room and tiredly placed on the table the pocket knife he had kept on him this entire time. He removed his glove and eyed the metallic hand as he opened and closed it.
With a sigh, he returned to his couch, picked up his book, and waited for another night to over.
Song of the chapter:
The piano has been drinking (not me) –Tom Waits
