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cami-chats · 5 years

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My Blood Red Heart

Written for @marvelpolyshipbingo

Rating: Teen

Warnings/Triggers: Winter Soldier/Red Room mentions

Pairings: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Bucky recognizes his forgotten soulmate while in the middle of a fight. Natasha saves him, they save the day, and Tony invites them back to the Tower. Falling for her was easy, so why not fall for him too?

Square Filled: B2-Murder Strut

Read on AO3 or below

The Soldier watched her run away, but there was no satisfaction in it, not when she was severely outgunned and still had the time to toss that fucking smirk over her shoulder as she went. She was the bigger threat. The target had gone down. He'd get back up, the Soldier knew that, but she could actually stop them if she wanted. She'd tricked him, and the only thing that had saved him was luck. She'd hit the glasses instead of an inch higher; that wasn't because of anything he'd done.

His eyes followed her. She was taking a fairly straight path which would've been a mistake if she wasn't so obviously trying to prevent civilian casualties. "I have her," he said. If they went after her, they wouldn't even make it a full minute. "Find him." He vaulted over the concrete wall and landed on top of a car with a crash that made his legs ache for a moment.

She ducked between two cars before he could raise his gun, and there were more cars on the other side of an overturned bus-- a miniature maze where the prize was pulling the trigger first. He strode to the other side of the road with sure steps, then slowed, glancing back and forth and listening for the smallest sound. She was too good to have loud steps, but he should be able to- he came to a stop. She was talking quietly, but it was enough. Calling for reinforcements wouldn't be enough to save her, but it could save the two men she'd been in the car with if the team accompanying him felt particularly useless today.

He reached to his back with his left hand, fingers catching on a small bomb. He lowered himself and rolled it towards her, then straightened and raised his gun again; there was no way the bomb alone would kill her as she'd see it and dodge, but that would leave him with an opportunity. There was something familiar about her, more familiar than that shield the target had used on the bridge. His handler would mention it during the debrief, most likely, so he didn't need to think about it. The explosive went off and he tightened the gun to his shoulder, only to be thrown off balance when something hit the side of him and knocked the gun out of his hands.

He didn't have the chance to get his feet under him before he heard the quick whir of a garrote wire, and he shoved his hand up near his neck. It just barely caught the wire in time, grinding against the metal of his hand, and as he tried to find his center again, the familiarity struck him again, more distinct than before. He stumbled backward and she hit a car with a grunt, but her grip didn't loosen. For a moment he tried to get the wire completely away, but the angle was bad and she had too much leverage where she was hanging off his shoulders. With his free hand, he reached up and gripped with the intent of throwing her over his shoulder. He started to, and then he froze, memories hitting him straight in the stomach like a brick.

She fell barely a foot away from his aborted move.

"Natasha," he gasped, and she stopped, half a second from throwing something at him. His eyes were wide, and he didn't know- what the hell was going on? He stumbled back half a step, bumping into the car again, and this time he didn't move.

She got to her feet, still holding that small disc in her hands. Her expression was hopeful but her body language was wary, angled so that she could throw it at him and make a run for it if she needed. Smart, but she'd always been smart. "Yasha," she returned evenly.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked, and he didn't even care how desperate it came out.

She glanced over his shoulder nervously, then back at him. "Not now, we need to leave."

He didn't know how to think about where he was or how he'd gotten to this specific point in time, but he could get them out. Leaving was easy. They started to run, moving together like no time had passed since they'd been on the same side. No words were necessary; when Natasha moved one way, he knew it meant they were about to take a hard left, and they moved in tandem. The deafening sound of a mini gun spitting bullets started, but it wasn't at them. She glanced towards the noise, slowly an almost unnoticeable amount.

He grabbed her arm and made her keep pace, gruffly saying, "They'll be fine." The target was up, and without him the others didn't stand a chance. If they took too long, there would be news sites coming to film, and they wouldn't be able to kill him; they would definitely take too long, the idiots.

They made it far enough away, he took off the mask, and she lifted a hoodie for him. In DC, there wasn't really such a thing as 'out of the way'. Where there wasn't video surveillance, there were guards, and most of the time there were both. So when they stopped to try and formulate a plan, it wasn't because they were completely hidden, it was because they were as out of the way as they could be. There weren't any safe houses that would actually be safe. Fury was dead-- god, Bucky had killed him, he hadn't thought about it at the time, but that had been the last major defense against Hydra and he'd shot that chance without a though-- Hill was in the wind likely dead, and Rogers and Wilson were the ones in need of rescue.

Natasha let out a frustrated breath. "We need backup." But there wasn't any.

"What about Stark?"

Natasha looked at him sharply. "We aren't dragging him into this mess."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, staring at her flatly. "Right. Hydra taking over won't effect him at all." He knew it had been a damn long time since he'd known her, but since when did she care about people this way? Stark could more than take care of himself-- the multiple failed assassination attempts by Hydra were proof enough about that-- and if he could take care of himself, there was no reason for her to be worried. No reason that Bucky could think of right now, at least.

"We aren't in New York."

"He has a flying suit," Bucky said drily.

"We have no way of contacting him," she tried.

Bucky held up a phone he'd swiped from someone's bag-- they'd survive, they had another one for some reason. Hoodie pockets were great. He also had a couple snacks in there, but they were for after Natasha made the phone call that would save their asses. He cared about whatever was holding her back, but not more than he cared about their lives.

With a regretful sigh, she snatched the phone from his hand and dialed, the number clearly memorized to perfection even though she couldn't have had much cause to use it.

It was several, long rings before Tony answered, a confused, "Hello?"

"It's Natasha." There was a shy, hesitant quality to her voice, and Bucky wondered when he'd stop being surprised by things now that he was... himself again.

A pause, then, in a tone too casual to be genuine, Tony said, "You know, there was some footage of that epic battle you just got into. I know some drivers can be dumb, but I think you took it a little too hard this time. You gotta learn to take deep breaths and let it go. Maybe we should pencil you in for some meditation time with Bruce. So Steve and that other guy-- you know, the handsome one in the green shirt, he looks kinda familiar, maybe he should drop by when all is said and done-- got taken in by some people in SHIELD uniforms, and you vanished. I'd be offended you didn't call me in to join the party, but I'm guessing that's what this is. Unless you wanted to RSVP for the New Years party. Six months early is a bit much, but you spy types are always on top of things."

Natasha smiled, but her tone was clear of it when she responded. "Not sure about New Years yet, but we could use some support down here."

"Already in the suit. Where are you?"

"What, you can't trace the call?"

"Not while I'm tracking the transport that has Stevie-boy in it. Am I grabbing him or you first?"

"Him. Yasha and I can survive a little longer without you."

"Who the hell is Yasha?"

Natasha's eyes flickered to Bucky. "Long story."

"Okay," Tony said, drawing out the second syllable to show how much he didn't like that brushoff. "This number good to reach you at?"

"We'll hold on to it until we hear from you." Normally she would ditch it right away, but there was no point when they had no other way to contact him.

"I'd tell you when to expect a call except I'm breaking my own safety protocols right now, so maybe I'll die in a fiery twist of metal like my nanny always predicted. Stay safe," he said, then hung up.

"You're close," Bucky noted.

"Not really," she said, but she had to know that he could tell when she was lying. It was probably a soulmate thing that he always knew when she was telling the truth and when she wasn’t, because she'd always been able to fool handlers.

Bucky didn't say anything to that, just pulled a cap from his hoodie pocket and offered it to her.

She put it on and looped her hair through the hole in the back. "I did a profile on him right after Iron Man. We talk, but he doesn't trust me."

"Anyone other than me trust you?" he asked, arm around her shoulders as they started walking again.

"A few people." The one that recruited her to SHIELD. Fury, before he had died, maybe Hill as well. Steve might. He'd seen something about the Avengers before, but they seemed more like individuals with a common goal than a team. The fact that Natasha hadn't automatically called them was proof enough that they weren't a team.

By the time the dust settled, it was obvious that Hydra had counted on Iron Man being out of the way. Bucky could recall some of Hydra talking about the Mandarin and the aftermath keeping Stark busy, but he didn't think that was important to share. Iron Man was there, a hell of a lot more firepower and brainpower than they'd planned for. Fury was alive and Hill was with him, which explained where they'd been at the start of this mess. Well, Fury was barely alive. He'd kind of been shot to hell, and Bucky made eye contact with him exactly once to make sure he wasn't taking it personally. Maybe Fury trusted Natasha, but Bucky was part of the much larger group of 'everyone else' aka 'people he didn't trust'.

It was ridiculously impressive how much everyone trusted Natasha actually. She might think she was untrustworthy, but everyone in the room believed in her. Proof? They'd all given Bucky suspicious looks and Stark had outright asked why they were trusting the guy that had been attacking them a couple hours ago, and all Natasha had to say was, "He's on our side," to shut them up.

"Anyone need a place to stay?" Tony asked. Then, without waiting for an answer, "Of course you do. You-" he pointed at Fury and Hill "-lost your fancy carriers and compromised your entire organization. And you three-" Steve, Natasha, and Sam, but not Bucky since he'd basically been a Hydra attack dog "-lost your homes when they fucked up. C'mon, the tower's great. Pepper won't even be able to get mad at me for inviting all of you back."

"Why would Pepper be mad at you?" Steve asked.

"She doesn't like half of you. Natasha's her buddy, but she doesn't know Sam or Bucky. You SHIELD higher ups though, you're on thin ice. Something about paperwork and an inefficient organization, I don't really know."

As they'd been doing all day, they just listened to Tony and followed after him. It was easy to do that when Tony was constantly proving to make the right decisions. Besides, who else were they going to listen to? Fury? He was the only other one with ideas, but right now he was bedridden, so his usual intimidation tactics didn't work. Plus he had a hell of a lot of work to do to rebuild SHIELD, and none of them needed to be there for that.

Tony decided that instead of flying out to the Tower and grabbing the quinjet to get all of them, they were just going to drive. Bucky wasn't allowed, Sam refused, and Steve was banned from ever driving when Tony was around. Natasha could have, but Tony offered then went off to find a rental. Which meant that none of them got to complain when he showed up in a minivan with a gleeful smile. Of course, that did mean that no one sat in the front seat next to him since Sam and Steve had paired off and Natasha wasn't letting Bucky out of arm's reach.

"This is fun," Tony said. "It's like I'm the mom-friend of the group. Wait until Rhodey hears about this, he'll mock you all silly, normally I'm the one that has to deal with that. And since none of you are in the passenger seat and get to complain, you have to deal with my music." He turned on something with lots of drums and screeching guitars, but after the first song he switched it to only be sounding in the front.

The rest of them were silent for most of the drive. Steve was trying to process the fact that Bucky was alive but was nothing like how he'd used to be. They wouldn't be able to talk about it with everyone here, and that was if they talked about it at all. Bucky was closed off, silent and brooding. Natasha had mentioned the phrase 'tall dark and handsome' before, and he was pretty sure that was the category Bucky fell into now, as opposed to well groomed and a gentleman like he'd been before.

Sam... well Bucky didn't know Sam all that well, but he was probably thinking about how weird it was that one day he'd been having breakfast and the next he was in a minivan with half the Avengers plus a newly retired Hydra assassin. That had to mess with anyone. As for Bucky and Natasha, well, they were used to not talking.

"Sorry I ripped the steering wheel out," Bucky said to Sam.

Sam grunted. He probably wanted an apology for trying to kill him, but Bucky would spend the rest of his life saying that to people if he started now so he didn't care very much.

"He's grumpy because he hasn't had something to eat all day," Natasha said.

"That sounds like an excuse to go to McDonald's," Tony called from the front, opting to yell over the music rather than turn it down. But he did turn it down when he got to the drive thru window because he was a nice guy. And because he was an even nicer guy, he got burgers for everyone, not just himself and Sam. But he was the only one that got a milkshake. Not that Bucky or Natasha minded, but he hadn't even offered. It was the principle of the matter.

"Do they know about you?" Bucky asked her in a low tone. Steve, with his enhanced hearing, would've been able to make out the words if he spoke Russian.

"No."

"You going to tell them?"

"It hasn't come up."

Bucky snorted. Just because no one had directly asked her if she was enhanced didn't mean the topic hadn't come up. She was on a team with other enhanced people, they had definitely talked about it before.

Natasha wrote down a quick summary instead of a full report. "SHIELD has bigger problems than the specifics of how they fell," was her excuse, and Bucky couldn't agree more. Steve, on the other hand, wrote down every little detail. He didn't send it anywhere, so it was likely a way for him to work through what had happened. Not that Bucky was around by the time he finished. Tony went to the kitchen then his workshop, and Sam stuck close to Steve's side. Whether that was because he was nervous or some other-- maybe soulmate related-- reason, he wasn't sure.

Natasha either had a regular room she crashed in, or she just knew which rooms were available for use, because she dragged Bucky off to one of them without checking with Stark. She locked the door as soon as they were both inside, then pointed at a door off to the side. "If you want to get cleaned up."

Bucky didn't, really. He didn't want to do much of anything because that meant dealing with everything he couldn't remember and what he'd missed. But he'd always been able to listen to her, and right now was no exception. He walked towards the bathroom and started stripping off his tac vest. All the knives and guns lined up on a side table by the bed-- less than he should've had, he was running low after the fight-- before he went all the way into the bathroom.

Memories were like sand-- you thought it was all gone until you shifted and found some more. It wasn't much, just the feeling whenever he untied his boots and pulled off his pants; it had been a while since he'd been able to do this in private. After the Red Room, he'd been kept on a damn short leash. Hydra didn't know what to do with him after that. Going on ice had hurt and made it worse for their long term plans for him. Wiping him hurt, but it did help them out temporarily. He'd been a weapon. Not an assassin, not the Fist of Hydra like Pierce had taken to calling him. A weapon, meticulously cleaned and maintained. Slight chinks were overlooked because he had still been the best weapon they had, even dealing with the issues that consistently and continuously cropped up.

The shoes had blood and dirt, and everything had been drenched in water at one point. Air drying was bullshit and made him feel crusty. He didn't really know how good laundry machines were, but the black of his pants covered any bloodstains that were there so it might not matter in the end.

He stepped in the tub and turned on the water. Did he know how to work it? No, but it's not like hot water from a shower faucet could burn him. When the water first came on, it was freezing, but it turned warm quickly. Perks of using a rich fella's shower. He saw Natasha come in, and she closed the bathroom door. Her clothes really were ruined. She hadn't had her suit, so she was in the same clothes that she'd had on the interstate. Civilian clothes couldn't take a pounding for shit. The mud probably wouldn't come out, and the blood definitely wouldn't; as she undressed, she tossed the clothes directly into the trashcan.

There was dirt crusted into her hair. She probably wasn't happy about that, said it reminded her of wading through a sewer-- Bucky never had asked why she knew how that felt when she'd been in the Red Room since she was eight. She joined him in the shower, sliding the distorted glass door across so they were closed off. She leaned her forehead against his back, neither of them moving.

"Do we have any clothes?"

"There are extras in the closet."

She hadn't checked since they entered, so she must have known that from past experience. Bucky sighed, grabbing the soap and rubbing it quickly across his chest and under his arms. It smelled pretty and floral, and it felt far too expensive. In the past fifty years, he'd had the type of soap that his healing factor had to work on. Effective in cleaning, but it stung like hell.

Natasha helpfully moved her head from where she'd been leaning against him, but otherwise she did nothing, enjoying the steam and the company.

A minute later, Bucky tried to move out of the way for her, but she stopped him with a hand on his waist and a raised eyebrow. "You're not getting out with your hair like that."

Like what? His hair was fine.

Natasha rolled her eyes like she'd been able to hear that and grabbed a blue bottle from the shelf. She squirted some of the shampoo-- also floral, dear lord, Bucky was going to smell like a fucking bouquet when he got out-- into her hand and started lathering it into Bucky's hair. He closed his eyes, ostensibly to make sure none of it got in, and leaned into her hands. She spent more time massaging his scalp than was strictly necessary, but he wasn't going to complain and she wasn't going to mention it either.

"Rinse," she said, so Bucky tilted his head back and started to work on getting all the suds out.

And after that, it was only fair to do her hair for her too. They stayed in there for a long time, but the water didn't turn cold-- perks of staying with someone rich. It was a good thing that they had nowhere to go, because now he didn't have to ask Natasha if they could stay; they had to.

Bucky dried off then collapsed on the bed without bothering to look for those clothes Natasha had mentioned. Chances were they wouldn't fit anyways. Natasha got under the covers next to him. Then she sighed. "I left the light on."

Bucky got up before she could do more than start to move, and he turned the light off before going back to bed. The mattress was like a goddamn marshmallow, the sheets a higher thread count than anything he'd touched before, and the blanket was already warming him up. It would be wonderful if it wasn't so different that it threw him off kilter. He didn't bother staying there for long before he got down and laid on the floor.

"Mm Yasha, what're you doing?"

"Sleeping," he grumbled.

She pushed herself up and scooted more towards his side of the bed, peering over the side at him. Enhanced eyesight was a perk of the serums they'd both been given. She couldn't make out his expression or exactly where his nose was, but she could see him. He was on his side, looking just as at ease as he'd ever been. Natasha liked the fluffy bed. What she would like even more, was to be next to Yasha while she slept; she always slept better when she wasn't by herself. So even though she'd been looking forward to an overly comfortable bed after months on SHIELD standard bedding, she got to her feet, pulling the blanket with her.

Bucky lifted his head when he saw her moving, and he snorted when she laid down next to him. She was even nice enough to share the blanket with him. She wrapped an arm around his waist after she got all her hair out of the way. "Get some sleep."

Tony felt like pounding his head against the wall. So he did. He was an absolute, complete, total idiot for falling in love with Natasha. The only interest she'd ever shown in him was when she'd been undercover, and she hadn't trusted him for the longest time after that. He tried so hard to let her know that she could ask him for anything, and he didn't even care that it came off as desperate because he was and she certainly knew that.

The long lost Bucky Barnes and assassin for Hydra was her boyfriend. That was not as big a surprise as the guy being alive in the first place, and he cared more about the first part than the second because he'd already known that he didn't stand a chance with her.

Thankfully, everyone had come back to the Tower with him, so he didn't have to do anything pesky like stalk them to ask what he wanted to know. He was going to make breakfast as a peace offering (and also bring Barnes clothes because he definitely did not have a bag with him, and no way in hell was he going to be able to fit in what Nat had).

The only problem with this plan was that it was nighttime. Tony sighed and headed to the workshop. "J, set an alarm for six thirty tomorrow morning, I need to remember to order breakfast."

"Of course, sir."

"Thanks buddy." Tony walked through the doors, and DUM-E activated from his charging station, wheeling out with a questioning beep. "Don't worry, kiddo, daddy's going to get some work done. Back to sleep with you."

DUM-E, of course, didn't listen, and instead went to finish arranging the spare parts Tony had around for the cars. Since he wasn't going to be in the way doing that, Tony let him have his fun and opened up a few internet windows. Time to get to work on that mess Hydra had made.

The time flew by when JARVIS gave him the set alarm, and even though Tony wasn't anywhere near done, he figured a break to recharge couldn't hurt, especially when the dealings with humans were more time sensitive.

They woke up when someone knocked on the door. Natasha groaned, then yelled, "What!" in the direction of the door.

"It's Tony! I was hoping for a little breakfast, maybe some juice, maybe the explanation about how you know Cap's old buddy!" A pause. "Or how he's alive, that would be good too!"

Natasha groaned, then yelled back, "We'll meet you in the kitchen!" She planted her face against Bucky's chest for a moment, then pushed herself up. "Do you have answers for him?"

"You know as much as I do," Bucky mumbled, rubbing at his face.

"Great," she said, stretching. There were clothes around here somewhere, she just needed to find them and hope they were big enough for Bucky to fit into. If not, well, he'd dealt with far worse than walking around in tight pants. As it turned out, there were only clothes fit to Natasha's size, and he wouldn't be able to squeeze into any of that. "I'll go ask Steve for some extras," she said, opening the door, only to pause. Right outside was a stack of jeans and a t-shirt. "Nevermind." She picked them up and turned back around, kicking the door shut. She tossed them at Bucky and he caught them, then slid them on.

"I don't really remember Steve," he said, zipping up the pants. "I don't remember what I was doing on the bridge."

"What do you remember?"

"The Red Room. Some of our missions afterwards. I... remember they-" he stopped. They'd found out about him and Natasha, and they'd sent him away because both of them were too valuable-- too well trained-- to kill. After that, just shadows of what he'd done. It was like trying to remember the details of a book he'd read years ago. He remembered a chair with jolts of electricity, he remembered the new order of Hydra and how they'd tried to convince him he was one of them, and he remembered ice. Flashes that didn't make sense. He didn't really remember Steve. More like a memory of a story he'd heard once. That wasn't what Steve would want to hear, he knew that much. "I don't remember anything important," he ended up saying.

She looked at him for a minute; she knew he was holding something back, but she didn't press him about it. And that, right there, was why they got along so well. He didn't want to talk about it, and she knew that if she waited long enough, he'd bring it up again. Not that he wanted to admit that he'd bring it up again, but, well, they both knew better. "We might as well go to breakfast before Tony thinks we abandoned him." She opened the door and Bucky followed her automatically.

Tony was munching on toast when they came in, and he pushed the massive jug of orange juice towards them. "I always thought one vintage super soldier was enough for a group, but I guess I'll have to reconsider."

Bucky shrugged as he picked up the jug. Natasha put a glass between him and the orange juice, so he redirected and poured some in the glass. "Hydra experiments," he said nonchalantly. He drained the glass, then refilled it. "Fucks with your mind sometimes." And that's all he was going to say about it.

Tony must have picked that up, because he accepted it. "Yeah, fuck Hydra, I think that's something we can all agree on. Not that I really care," he lied, "but how do you and Natasha know each other? She never worked for Hydra."

"A lot of organizations help Hydra without working for them," Natasha said, and that was all she planned on saying too.

"Do all spies have trouble answering questions like normal people, or is it just the two of you?"

"When was the last time Clint answered a question straight that wasn't about food?" Nat countered.

"You've got a point, but it doesn't match my annoyance with you so I'm going to pretend it's not true."

Bucky snorted. No one bothered to tell him the really good things. Natasha was here, and obviously that was nice, but couldn't she have mentioned that Tony was funny? He'd kinda thought coming here would only lead to avoiding Steve, not actually enjoying anything else.

Tony had ordered in, so he uncovered one of the breakfast platters and took a little for himself, then pushed the rest towards Nat. Then he opened a completely full one for Bucky. He haphazardly tossed forks into the containers, but it didn't look like he'd be surprised if they shoved their faces straight in. Whatever, he was starting with bacon anyways, he didn't need a fork for that.

"Steve's not an easy person to keep out," Tony continued between new bites and half chewed food. "You don't have to talk to him today, and not about anything important, but when he starts cracking heads in, mine will be the first to go. You may not care about that, but I don't have a healing factor so I'd like to avoid all this possible damage."

"He wouldn't hurt you," Natasha said, rolling her eyes.

"That's what you think; he likes you."

"He likes you too."

"Not as much. I think it's the hair, he prefers long and luxurious over well sculpted beards. I think it's a bullshit forties thing."

"It's not," Bucky said. He didn't have any evidence for that, but he was pretty sure Steve had been unable to grow a beard for a while. After the serum that was probably fixed, but he wasn't over it. Or at least, that was his leading theory. Personally, Bucky had always liked a little facial hair.

"Oh yeah? You like the beard?" Tony asked with a wink.

"What's not to like?" he responded, and maybe it was a little too easy for him to say that. Natasha was too good to stare at him straight out for it, but he could tell that it perked her interest.

"You like him," she said as soon as they were alone, back in the relative privacy of their room.

"You love him."

They stared at each other.

"I have a crush," he said softly. "He's handsome and doesn't look at me like he expects something."

More silence. This should be the part where she admitted why she loved him. Bucky had never been the jealous sort, if only because that wasn't the sort of relationship they'd had. It had been intense and all consuming, but when she was working missions there wasn't room for that shit.

"I don't care." It doesn't matter if she loved someone other than him, they were still together. Another bedmate, another partner... they still had each other at the end of the day, and that was the only part he cared about. "You love him," he said again, more gentle than before. Gentle was never something he'd been good at, but it felt like what the situation needed so he tried.

Natasha swallowed. "Love is for children." And she'd never thought she had enough innocence to make it work. She didn't seem to realize that there was more to it than that. Oh when dealing with other people, she knew, but when it came to herself, it's like she forgot all the facts, all the statistics, all the reasons people behaved the way they did-- why she behaved the way she did. He understood it all too well, but that didn't mean he knew how to help.

"Is that what we had?" he mused. "Love?" Like jealousy, they hadn't worked in terms of 'love', but that was a different time for them. Already, he was settling into old patterns. He didn't quite remember why or what those patterns were, but he could feel himself sinking into them.

"Had?"

Bucky shrugged. "Have. You can't tell me you know what we're doing."

"We're... existing."

"Then why would I have a problem with you 'existing' with Tony too?"

"You're not jealous," she snorted.

That didn't even require a response; of course he wasn't. "That's my point."

She looked at him for a long moment, then shook her head.

He didn't bring it up again. Not later that night, not the next day, not the next week, and not at any point in the next month when they stayed at the Tower without really meaning to. It's just that leaving would mean having to figure out what-- if anything-- they wanted to do other than clean up after Shield. Staying meant Natasha could go about her life almost as if nothing had changed, and Bucky was able to catch up with Steve and work out the stupid amount of energy he had; staying on ice and being half starved meant he was never restless, but Tony kept insisting that he eat until he was full and this was the result-- fuck Tony.

So when Bucky finally got an official answer from Natasha, it was over a month after he asked. Bucky was sharpening knives in the living room, all of them spread out on the carpet next to him on the ground. She sat on the couch behind him and said, "You're right."

Of course, he had no fucking idea what that meant, because they hadn't been talking about anything this could apply to today. "About?"

"Tony."

Unfortunately, that didn't clear it up for him. He said a lot about Tony, and he already knew he was right about all of it.

They sat in silence for a minute before she elaborated. "How I feel about him."

"Yeah." A month wasn't that long for an admission. Tony might disagree if they ever got around to telling him, but he was what, forty? Natasha was twice that, and Bucky was maybe older, depending on how you calculated it.

"You like him too."

"Course I do, I already told you that."

"You said it was a crush," she said, and the implication hung heavy in the air. It had only been a crush when he said it, because he was Tony fucking Stark, and he was Iron Man, and he was gorgeous, and he'd seen shit but still grinned every day like it didn't matter. Tony made everything easy but let you pretend it wasn't, and Bucky fell for him in the same way. Cause honestly, who the hell saw the Winter Soldier and decided they could force him to go to a carnival just to hold all the prizes they won? Tony, that's fucking who. Not that Bucky had gone alone, he'd dragged Natasha along, ostensibly so he wasn't suffering by himself but she'd definitely known better and Tony probably had too.

The slight tightness in his chest was completely irrational; Natasha already knew what it had become, and she was just as okay with it as Bucky was with her own feelings. It was a conditioned response to admitting anything he cared about though, so he swallowed past it and said, "Was."

"Are we telling him?"

The knife made a clear sound against the stone as he slid it along the edge. "Why bother?"

"He... might be interested."

Bucky hummed noncommittally. It's not that he thought she was wrong, but he didn't think it would go anywhere good. Tony was... different. He wasn't like them. He was a hero, they were ex-Soviet assassins that did good things mostly by accident-- well, he did, Natasha actually tried. And if he was interested and they did end up with it going towards a future together, Tony was still going to end up dead long before both of them. That wasn't something he wanted to get caught up in. It just... wouldn't be worth it. Tony was worth a whole goddamn lot, but Bucky didn't want to invite that kinda heartbreak.

Sometimes it felt like Natasha could read his mind, because she leaned forward, hair swishing against his ear and pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "You-" another kiss, this time to his cheek "-are so-" a kiss to his jaw "-stupid."

"Thanks?"

"If you don't have a good reason, we're telling him."

"And if I say it makes me uncomfortable?"

She kissed his cheek again before leaning back to her former position. "I would say you're lying and that means I don't have to listen to you. So don't try that."

"Could I say anything to stop this?"

Natasha curled a hand up his next to tangle her fingers in his hair. She scratched lightly at his scalp, and he stopped trying to sharpen his knives to enjoy it. "I'm not trying to force you into this. But I thought it was something we both wanted. I've seen the way you look at him, and there's no reason he wouldn't fit between us."

"Don't say it like that or he'll think you mean sex."

"Is that a yes?"

"You know it is."

Natasha hummed. "I suppose we'll have to plan how to ask him."

He picked his hands back up and went back to work. "You're overthinking it. We ask him to dinner as a date, and that's our answer."

"Tony, would you like to go to Geraldi's tonight?" Natasha asked. Tony was hunched over the shop's table working, Bucky was working on one of his cars, and Natasha was stacking the items in the fridge until Bucky wanted help.

"Sure."

"As a date?"

Tony's head popped up, frowning. He looked at her, then Bucky, then back to her. "Uh. Did I miss something?"

"Not as far as I know," Bucky said from where he was putting a muffler together.

"Okay," Tony said slowly.

"Great! We'll leave here at seven."

Tony opened his mouth to say that that's not what he'd meant, but he closed it a moment later, frowning. "Seven, got it." He'd figure out what was going on later. For now, he was going to finish what he was doing. As for later, he was going to enjoy dinner when it happened because he fucking loved Geraldi's, and he wasn't going to let the impossibility of it being a date ruin the food.

Bucky said something, but it was in Russian, and all Tony knew in Russian was 'more vodka' and 'take me home'; it hadn't really been a problem until now. "That wasn't very clear."

"It was clear enough."

Bucky snorted, and Tony looked over in worry. "Not you, doll. Tricking him into saying yes does not count."

Natasha scowled at him. "I'll make it clear over dinner."

"I thought we didn't want him to misunderstand. He'll think that's sex."

Her scowl deepened.

"Is something wrong?" Tony asked, concerned.

"No," they said together.

That did not make him feel better. He sighed and went back to what he was doing. It wasn't exactly soothing, but it was something to do other than worrying about whatever the hell they were talking about.

Tony drifted off to sleep, and Natasha looked over to see Bucky glaring at her.

"What?" she hissed.

"You said he wouldn't misunderstand," Bucky accused. Quietly, of course, because he didn't want to wake Tony up.

"And he didn't!"

"You're not supposed to have sex on the first date, even I know that."

"Don't be so judgmental, lots of people do that. And we've known him for a while, so it's hardly a first meeting. We went on a date and then we came home and had sex, that's a perfectly reasonable first date when we've been friends for so long!"

Bucky's glare deepened. "Wait and see, tomorrow he'll wake up and try to sneak off."

"No he won't."

"He will. He thinks it was a one night affair, you don't stick around after those."

"We're in his bed!"

"And that won't stop him!"

They stopped having a whispered argument over his body as they switched to just glaring at each other over his body. If he woke up right now, he would get quite the view.

"Go to sleep, Yasha."

"We fucked this up," Bucky grumbled.

"If he tries to leave, lay on top of him."

"What? Why can't you do it?"

"You way a hundred pounds more. Don't be a baby," she said, then laid down so Bucky couldn't argue with her further.

"Hmph." He laid down, curling into Tony's warmth. It was easier to do with Natasha since she knew he wanted that and could accommodate it, but after curving in as much as he could without achieving his goal, he hoped Tony wouldn't mind if Bucky rearranged him a little. Pick up an arm, slide under it, wiggle a leg between his, and Bucky finally felt situated enough to relax.

Unsurprisingly, he was right, and he gave a pointed look to Natasha-- that she rolled her eyes at-- before dragging Tony back down onto the bed. "Where ya goin'," he mumbled.

"Uh," Tony blanked at first, clearly not having expected to be caught, "the 'shop? I've got a couple projects I need to work on-"

"Liar," Natasha muttered. Her voice was low, but still loud enough that Tony could definitely hear. "You were running away for no reason."

"Oh there's a reason, and I think it's pretty obvious what that is. So if you'll just," Tony trailed off, trying unsuccessfully to dislodge Bucky's arm around his waist.

"As the one that got us into this mess Natasha, you have t' fix it." Plus he was tired and words were hard to form. He could totally kill someone right now, but have a heart to heart? That was beyond what he could do this close to waking up.

"If 'fix it' is code for kill me, you really really don't Natasha. We're friends, aren't we? You wouldn't kill one of your friends." Tony's voice was half joking half panicked.

"What the idiot means is that last night was a date. As a precursor to other dates until you're comfortable with letting us call you our partner."

Tony blinked. "What."

"Like dating one person, only instead of one person, there's two of us."

Bucky snorted. "Eloquent."

"If you're not going to do better, shut it."

"Three person relationship instead of two?" he offered, then yawned.

"This isn't a joke, right?" Tony asked. "Cause if it is, it's mean and you should confess right now before I get it into my head that this is actually happening."

"It's happenin' now will you go back to sleep?" Bucky grumbled. He only wanted one more hour, that wasn't so much to ask in his opinion.

"What Bucky means is that no, it's not a joke. It's a serious offer, and you can think about it for as long as you want. If that includes some time alone right now, you can take it. If not, then pull the covers back up because it's getting cold."

Tony did nothing for a long moment, then pulled the blanket up. "You are two very confusing people." Another pause. "I feel like I'm going to regret this, but not as much as you fuckers will."

Natasha smothered her laugh, then spread her hand over Tony's chest. "Noted."

"You can't make me regret anything more than I already do," Bucky claimed, yawning again.

"I was making a joke, and you just break my heart," Tony said.

"I'll try not to."

#marvel #fanfic #winterironwidow #tony stark #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #my writing

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hanniejji · 6 years

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TAGS UWU

So I was tagged three times and since I wasn't able to do it on my phone I had to do it on my computer lmao anyway I got tagged by my sweet cakes(@hyunjinsgiggle ), the sunshine (@felegs ), and this cutie (@stayuwu ) this is going to be long btw im sorry and the ending is very depressing ignore it

Bold Tag

Rules: bold the ones that apply to you!

Appearance:

I’m over 5'5 / I wear glasses/contacts / I have blonde hair / I wear sweatshirts a lot / I prefer loose clothing to tight clothing / I have one or more piercings / I have at least one tattoo / I have blue eyes / I have dyed or highlighted my hair / I have gotten plastic surgery / I have or had braces / I sunburn easily / I have freckles / I paint my nails / I typically wear makeup / I don’t often smile / I am pleased with how I look / I prefer Nike to Adidas / I wear baseball hats backwards

Hobbies and talents:

I play a sport / I can play an instrument / I am artistic / I know more than one language / I have won a trophy in some sort of competition / I can cook or bake without a recipe / I know how to swim / I enjoy writing / I can do origami / I prefer movies on TV shows / I can execute a perfect somersault / I enjoy singing / I could survive in the wild on my own / I have read a new book series this year / I enjoy spending time with friends / I travel during school or work brakes / I can do a handstand

Experiences:

I have had my first kiss / I have gotten drunk / I have told a crush I like them / I have traveled outside of the country / I have flown on an airplane / I have stayed awake for more than 48 hours / I have had a near-death experience / I have caught something on fire / I have performed in a talent show / I have shot a gun / I have been on TV / I have gone scuba diving / I have broken a bone / I have slow-danced / I have gone on a shopping spree

Relationships:

I am in a relationship / I have been single for over a year / I have a crush / I have a best friend I have known for over ten years / my parents are together / I have dated my best friend / I am adopted / my crush have confessed to me / I have had a long-distance relationship / I am an only child / I give advice to my friends / I have made an online friend / I met up with someone I have met online

Aesthetics:

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell / I have watched the sun rise / I enjoy rainy days / I have slept under the stars / I meditate outside / the sound of chirping calms me / I enjoy the smell of the beach / I know what snow tastes like / I listen to music to fall asleep / I enjoy thunderstorms / I enjoy cloud watching / I have attended a bonfire / I pay close attention to colors / I find mystery in the ocean / I enjoy hiking on nature paths / Autumn is my favorite season

Miscellaneous:

I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle / I am the mom friend / I live by a certain quote / I like the smell of sharpies / I am involved in extracurricular activities/ I enjoy Mexican food / I can drive stick-shift / I have memorized an entire song in a day / I believe in true love / I dream up scenarios to fall asleep / I sing in the shower / I wish I lived in a video game / I have a canopy above my bed / I am Multi-racial / I am a redhead / I own at least three dogs / I am LGBR

I'm about to answer 33 questions wow I feel like I'm on an examination

11 questions tag

by sweet cakes:

1. what is your fashion sense?

I have a lot of styles depending on the weather or my mood. I mostly do the sweater/jacket + high waisted shorts hehe or turtle neck + shorts + cardigan/jacket. when I'm lazy, which is always, I wear an oversize hoodie and shorts and the occasional cap hihi I have a weird sense of fashion

2. what is your favourite season?

I like rainy, or windy. any is fine as long as I don't sweat like hell adfaslsja I hate summer

3. if you could go on holiday anywhere, where?

I love going to beaches but tbh anywhere with good views is fine, it doesn't matter since the most important thing for me is that I get the experience and take lots of photos if they have a lot of delicious foods then that's better oof

4. what is one quote you live by?

"learn to stand on your own feet" has a very special place in my heart

5. would you ever get a tattoo, and if so, what and where?

I would want a snowflake, because we're not alone falling down

6. what is your favourite song at the minute?

at the moment, it's nobody knows by youngjae and fine by yugyeom ✨✨

7. what is one album you would listen to for the rest of your life?

I still listen to Linkin Park songs because of the meaningful and relatable lyrics

8. what is your favourite memory from the last year?

it has to be the one time my mom said she's proud of me :')

9. what is one regret you have?

not being able to make friends easily :'( I find it hard to do

10. would you change aforementioned regret?

maybe :'(

11. if you could have any food in the world to eat right now, what would it be?

How dare you make me choose I can't possibly choose between different varieties of foods :'( fries, frappe, and shawarma w/o cucumber pls

by sunshine 🌞

1. what’s one thing that helps you relax?

probably sleeping with soft background music

2. what’s your favorite novel and author?

I'd rather poetry :') sea of strangers by lang leav is amazing

3. are you an affectionate person? if so, how do you show affection?

I'm more like the closet affectionate person hehe but when I'm tired or sleepy I get clingy a lot but I'm mostly through small actions, I'm not comfortable with saying "I miss you" or whatever unless I'm typing them

4. are you an early bird or a night owl?

totally a night owl

5. if you’re comfortable with it, do you have a song you connect to something or someone, and if so, what is it?

sorry by halsey, broken home by 5sos

6. if you could go back to a place you’ve been to before, where would it be?

the beach we went to last vacation :')

7. what does your favorite piece of clothing - that you own yourself - look like?

a very comfy oversized hoodie, it's black with front pocket, sweater paaaaws, and it has a small doodle of neptune on the back

8. who’s your bias and why?

bias? I don't know her

9. do you believe in luck and miracles?

yas, my aunt is actually a fortune teller? idk? but she knows a lot about those and spirits thing but since I have low self confidence I mostly sound like I don't believe in them

10. what’s your favorite type of decorations?

aesthetic and pastel colors ✨

11. do you prefer being outside or inside?

booooth

by cutie :

1. Are you a daydreamer? If so, what do you dream about?

sometimes I just space out without even realizing

2. What’s your favorite place in the world?

home

3. What’s home to you?

somewhere that no one can judge me, a safety place, a place where I can let loose and be comfortable and not give a care about anything

4. This is not a question but quote a vine.

"oh hell noOooOoOOoOooOooOO"

5. Grey’s anatomy or House?

what i don't watch any of these

6. Do you have any pets?

a lame excuse of a cat

7. What kind of friend are you? (You know, the mom friend, the meme friend, etc).

the mom friend, scolds you 25/8, gives advises everywhere, comforts you, takes things seriously, drops everything just to listen to you unless I'm in a very bad mood, sacrifices for you, boyfriend material (according to my friend), secretly soft, lazy but exerts effort when needed, randomly does weird things and dances to fortnite, supports you, but lowkey doesn't do the same for myself lol because I'm emo and you can hear me saying bad things about myself 27/10 and pushing you away lol

I don't share my food unless you're important lmao

8. Do you hate someone? If so, why?

fake peopleeee

9. What’s your dream job?

to be a journalism

10. What MCU character resembles you the most? (not physically, more like mentally and emotionally).

probably wanda

11. I won’t use this eleven question as an actual question, use your right to answer to this to talk about whatever the fuck you want. Rant, fangirl, talk about what you did today or yesterday or whatever. Just talk.

I just want to cry to someone but I don't have the heart to tell anyone, I don't know why but I get stressed so easily and that one time our nurse had a seminar and asked if anyone is depressed, I just want to raise my hand but I'm too scared someone will judge me and think of me as a weak person, like now, and she started this speech about how to beat depression and I just can't understand how is that going to work because it doesn't work on me. I'm getting tired of constantly getting sad for no reason and it's bothering my classmates and I hate bothering them I feel like I'm annoying so I kept these thoughts to myself. It's hard trying to avoid spacing out and being so quiet all of the sudden, I'm getting mad at myself for being pathetic and I did the "do" once because I was so desperate to feel something other than sadness and I couldn't even tell anyone and right now I feel like this rant I'm doing is bothering everyone I hate being like this :'(

I'm doooonneee hehehehe that took me like a long time and I should really sleep now :') I will reblog this with my 11 questions and tags because tumblr has limits ugh

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aggresivelyfriendly · 7 years

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~Meet Me In The Hallway~

Chapter 30-Walkabout

Eternal gratitude to @nocontrolforlouis for making it readable and to everybody for being patient. I mommed hardcore this weekend, we did Disney, the beach, and rollerskating, plus LA traffic. I’m wiped, be gentle!

As Harry sobbed, I pulled him across my lap. I had heard his sadness and regret on his 10 -song memory trip. I knew we were all over it. I felt like I had a lot of answers to his questions. Not a one of them was good enough though.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I'm sorry, baby!" We were both saying it and he sat up and held my face.

"Im sorry. I'm sorry. If you ever thought I didn't love you, didn't think of you everyday.," he said."Didn't want you every bit as much as you wanted me. That you were less important than me."

I clutched his back, knowing touching him was a bad idea. "I'm sorry I ran. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you. You were my best friend, I should have just talked to you!"

He kissed me then. I think he was just caught up in the feeling of the moment, like I had been earlier. I let him, because we needed a real goodbye, a seal upon our lives and lips. Because I wanted to memorize him one last time, commit him to the mixtape in my head labeled 'Harry and Melly."

I pulled away after a few sips and stood, he needed to leave, before that wasn't possible. He tasted like sunshine and beaches and sausage rolls, and my mom before she got sick, like the home you can't go back to.

Harry let me pull him up and lead him to the door. I was surprised he didn't fight me about making him leave, that he didn't think we had more to say. Maybe he was sure this wasn't the last time. But he was leaving my island, a smaller one this time, and I knew better that it had to be.

I crossed my arms tightly at the door and said goodbye in the same tone. Collapsing back into myself, bringing her back home, the girl he set free.

"Can I at least call you sometime? I promise I'm much better about it now. Heartbreak is a good teacher," he said. The slice in his cheek appeared, his eyes shone through his drying tears and I thought that saltwater cured everything, except for love.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Harry."

His smile fell. "Alright, Alright Melly." He swallowed. "I...I love you, and for what's worth, I'm not mad at you anymore, ok? We're ok?"

I bit my lip and back my tears. "Mmhmm," was all I could get out with a nod. I couldn't cough up the three words he now seemed to say so effortlessly. Or the easy forgiveness, for him or me. I guided him to the threshold of my apartment and opened it onto the hallway. I couldn't even smile when he walked out into that place, our place. Though he was the one outside now, it felt backwards, like a mirror image.

I closed the door between us and sat down right there and listened to him walk away.

His footsteps echoed and I thought about how we don't ever really see our own faces, just reflections and pictures, but our lovers do. How they see us for who we really are. What face did Harry see tonight, when he had been looking at me? Did he see me as the 18-year old girl who he spent nights learning, of the 20-year old girl he knew in everyway, or the 23-year old woman who was a stranger?

I wasn't sure which one I saw either, what reflection would look back at me. I wasn't sure I'd recognize any of those people.

I was still there, on the floor, with a salty face when I heard Milo's footfalls and got myself up and to the bathroom. The girl in the mirror looked younger. So maybe today I was her, my 18-year old self. I'd cried off my makeup and I was in comfy clothes and my hair was up in the messy bun I had always worn at night three or four years ago. I'm surprised she wasn't screaming at me, for letting Harry walk into that corridor and away, onto another country.

It was time to put away childish things.

Milo loved my hair unbound, the waves down my back drew him out like he was a surfer at dawn. Most nights I wore it like that, now.

When we were young, Harry never made special mention of how he liked my hair, but he often gripped my bun. I wore a bun a lot then.

I didn't put make up on, but I washed my face and put my hair down and threw on a nightie before going to Milo.

"Corazon!" He greeted when I came into the kitchen and he was heating up yesterday's takeout. "Have you eaten?" He pulled down another plate and I felt a wave of guilt crest and crash.

"Yeah." I lied. Food sounded like sawdust. I sat at the table to chat like he liked me to do when he had been out late.

"Were you sleeping, Melody? Your eyes are puffy." His finger smoothed my eye and it reminded me of another swipe at the tear stained place too recently. My first instinct was to yank away from the confusing touch. I just adjusted myself slightly farther away.

"I nodded off, Buen Provecho." I nodded at his plate and watched him tuck in. He was always starved after these business affairs.

"I'm starving, How they all live off whiskey I do not know." He happily ate the Thai food I had called in, while we giggled on the living room rug and watched a film yesterday. It felt a lifetime ago. He was talking about his night between mouthfuls and I must have been feigning attention well enough because before long, while I was thinking about the sound of footsteps in corridors, he was pulling me up.

He hugged me and my body felt like I'd been in a car accident, black and blue all over. I was hoping my tiredness would convince him we should just retire. The idea of his hands on me tonight made me tender beneath my skin too. I wanted to word vomit over my shame and was trying to figure out how to tell him. How do you tell a good man he deserves more? When he wasn't touching me I could stay mum and numb.

I hoped he kept his hands to himself while I put on my courage like a poor knight's armor.

He was such a lovely man, I thought as I watched him round the bed. How could I do this? Milo got into the bed beside me and leaned over giving me a kiss on the head and taking my hand.

"Did you pack today?"

My confusion was plain on my face.

He chuckled, "Are you still jet lagged? Mi amor you are out of it." He made an up in space gesture.

I shook my head. Bigger things than sleep were wrong with me.

"No, Corazon, we leave in two days!" He's celebrating and I've forgotten somehow about the three week trip we are about to take. It has been an extremely stressful season at his work place. He's had to deal with some asset inquiries and he was up for review. When he'd been promoted to senior trader he had proposed that we make a trip to meet each other's families.

He picks up my hands then, and kisses the backs of them and then presses his mouth to the empty ring finger on my left hand. "After we tell our families, then you will have no excuse not to wear it anymore!"

He had also proposed.

And me in my delusions that I was over loving Harry Styles and all of the grief that had come with it, had leapt into his arms and accepted.

I'd be lucky to have him.

But we hadn't met anybody back home. I'd never been to Argentina and he had certainly never been to Australia. My parents and my brother were aware of our situation and happy that I'd found somebody after my unspoken, but apparent heartbreak. We had used the tools available to us and my mum had made a few calls where she had cause to make cheeky little comments about Milo because he was shirtless and I was disheveled.

They were happy because I was happy, or at least I thought I was.

No that is unfair. I was happy, and we were supposed to be getting married in six months. Smack dab in the middle of Harry's next tour. A shame I wouldn't be able to invite him.

I had agreed to marry my gorgeous grown-up man, but found a convenient excuse about why I could not wear his ring.

Milo had agreed, that our ex-patriot status made certain things complicated. What if our parents did not approve?

I could not imagine that my parent's would disapprove of Milo. And he assured me that his mother, the lone immediate family member he had, would love me at first sight, like him.

But I was well aware, having loved and lost a mumma's boy before, that her approval, Maria Luisa's approval, would be important. If she disapproved, however, that would be a deal breaker. I'm sure that Milo would not break up with me immediately, but it would be an eventuality.

Milo had been really nervous about this trip when we had discussed it originally. It was the youngest I had ever seen him appear, while he told me all about his home and all of the things he wanted me to see and eat. The friends that he couldn't wait to introduce to me.

It was more nerve wracking than meeting Harry's parents somehow. Maybe because of language barriers and cultural difference. Milo was totally sure that it would be a resounding success. I was his doll, everybody would love me as much as him, I would see.

Also, it wouldn't have been a deal breaker for Harry. No matter how much he loved his mother, if she didn't like me, he would just given her time and trust his own opinion.

Luckily we never had that problem.

For all of these reasons though, I had been hesitant to wear my ring until we actually met and it went smoothly. I could just imagine my mum catching the glint off the two carat skating rink Milo had presented me with and knowing her she would scream and cry and be happy. But she would also ask why they didn't know first and why Milo hadn't tried to talk to my dad before. I assumed that was because Milo had no father to speak of, and my parents were surprisingly old fashioned about some things.

Worse would be if his mother saw it and made assumptions about me before she met me. The guera from another world who kept her boy away.

These were the reason I gave Milo when he asked. And they were legitimate.

I felt the need to stall for time, but I had covered my hours of gut wrench by preparing for bed and pretending to be tired so I went to the bed and watched him round the room and close the bathroom door while I put my face into my hands and thought about the way Harry's face had looked while he'd begged me to tell him I didn't love Milo like I loved him. That I was meant for him.

His cheeks were drawn and he looked gaunt and like a cat caught out in the rain. Then he looked aghast that he had revealed himself so nakedly to me.

It reminded me of one of our first major conversations, when he had first stripped himself emotionally and admitted that the constant attention was exhausting and he longed for anonymity sometimes.

I pulled myself together when I heard the sink turn off after the buzz of Milo's electric toothbrush. When he walks out my feelings of guilt transfer to him.

He smiled at me so warmly and I remembered that he was my sun in a dark place. But I had betrayed him tonight, and would have betrayed him fully if Harry hadn't stopped me. Once again my thief's brain ran away with me, and my thoughts made a getaway from the righteous guilt I should be feeling to wondering about Harry's girl. She must be special if he turned me down.

Jesus I was a horrible bitch. I had no business with either of these honorable men.

Milo smiled at me, and came to his side of the bed, slipping in and flipping to his side so that he could run his fingers up and down my arm.

He wanted me. So I slouched down into the bed and tried to turn my brain off and my body on. Milo made me ravenous and desperate, it was his favorite thing.

It was a hard thing to fake, but I must have done well enough, as he nodded off after. "Mi Alma, mi sol!" he said into my long blonde hair.

Did all men fall asleep like this? Harry didn't even need to be horizontal or comfortable to fall asleep. Milo nodded off as soon as he met the pillow. They were the totality of my experience, so I guess men are better sleepers.

I was not tired. I surfed on my phone.

"Harry Styles girlfriend" went into the search bars without permission and I wondered how to punish my own fingertips, or mind.

There was nothing new, all of the girl's were from two or more years ago. So, she, whoever was standing where I stood and doing it better, was new or important.

Important? That was a weird assumption. And then I reminded myself, that voice who whispered important, that our names were never linked in ink. Only people who we loved knew. We were hidden far away from predatory eyes. I was hidden away.

Or it was new.

I sent up an errant prayer for the latter.

This was ridiculous! I was jealous of a woman I didn't know who got a man I didn't deserve and who I'd thrown away years ago. What I had now was real. And open. And I loved the one I was with.

I stared at Milo for a while and decided that I had to put Harry away. And that I would never tell. If nothing came of it and nobody came, the only reason to tell was to alleviate my own guilt. It was time to put away childish things.

I got up and located my engagement ring, stowed in the medicine cabinet for some weird reason. I closed the mirrored door and looked at the beautiful piece. I took off the ring that had adorned my right hand for years, with it's worn wish and held it.

I stared at myself in the mirror for a long moment and tried to decide who she was, the girl there reflected back at me.

And I put on my ring. But instead of the rock with all of its intentions, I slipped my past onto my wedding finger.

#harry styles #Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry Styles fanfic #Harry Styles imagine #mmith #meet me in the hallway #one direction #one direction fanfiction

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