from the dining table; bucky barnes
based of the song “from the dining table” by harry styles
warnings: cheating, liqour, feelings, lots of language, angst, iM soRRY
The night wasn’t supposed to go this way. You had come back from a mission early, elated to surprise your loving boyfriend. Seems more like you were the one surprised instead. As you trudged up the stairs to your shared apartment, it was startling to find two people standing in front of the cheaply made door.
It didn’t take long to realize who one of them was, tall with a dark haired man bun. Your Bucky. What you didn’t know, was who the other person was. Or why the pair of them were standing so close.
You swiftly hid behind the wall concealing the stairway and listened closely. You could feel your head pound to the rhythm of your heart and the tips of your fingers tapped together in anxiousness.
“I really had a great time, Buck.” The woman had obviously spoken, using the nickname reserved for his closest friends and you.
“Me too, doll.” Your heart twindged at the adorning name but you couldn’t find it in you to reveal yourself.
“Maybe next time, we can end it at my place?” She spoke suggestively and you could hear it followed by Bucky’s chuckled.
“I’d like that,” You peeked your head around the corner and took in the sight before your eyes. Her long arms around his neck and nails in this hair, her lips planted firmly on his. His arms snaked around her hourglass figure as he lifted her off the ground and reached for the door knob.
You felt physically ill. With your stomached tied into several knots and your knees feeling weak, you turned on your heel and slowly walked down the stairs leaning on the wall for support.
Of course it had to rain this night of all. The cold splatters soaked you to the core as you stepped out into the night. The rising bile in your throat made an appearance as you ran to the bushes and dry heaved seemingly forever.
You chest hurt and it felt like someone was stabbing into you repeatedly, all the while rubbing salt in the wounds. You stumbled to a standing positions and began walking toward the hotel a block from your- his apartment.
The receptionist had noticed your distraught look, recognizing it as heartbreak; something no one was immune to. She took pity on your defeated form and gave you a room on the top floor, far from anyone. With a muted thanks and a slow sluggish walk you willed yourself to the elevator to the 14th floor.
The room was nice, with a crystal chandelier and a mini fridge, any other time you would have been elated but now you just wanted to cry. You stood in front of the closed mahogany door and the tears you managed to keep in spilled from your bloodshot eyes. Sliding down the door, and shook violently as you screamed out in frustration.
How could he do that to you? How could he find another woman within the weeks time you were gone. Thats when it hit you, it was going on much longer than that. All the late night gym trips and sudden disappearances had added up. How did you not see it before? How had you been so stupid? So blind to what was right in front of you?
The pristine white of the bed mocked you, the purity of the sheets mocked you. You had given Bucky everything you had, and he tainted it all without you noticing. Your pure view on him was ruined, ripped apart and stomped on until there was nothing left with dust, painful dust. Sorta like your heart.
You shakily stood and stripped the soaked clothes from your body and dragged
yourself to the shower. The water burned your skin and left you raw and red, but you secretly hoped it would wash your pain away. You stayed in there until you felt so tired you were worried you may collapse in the shower.
The bed was cool against your hot and raw skin and soothed the scars of your heart. Your eyes stared at the white ceiling and the tears leaked out of the sides of your eyes. Sleep engulfed you like the darkness your heart now felt.
Woke up alone in this hotel room
Played with myself, where were you?
The sun shone through the opened curtains and you winced, the pounding sensation in your head making you feel delirious.
The unfamiliar room was puzzling to you until the events of last night rushed to your mind. The pain reinstated itself into your chest and you pulled a shaky breath, unable to cry anymore.
The digital clock next to the bed read 10:47 and the lump in your throat grew as you thought of Bucky. His mystery woman was probably making them breakfast, or was leaving to go home. Thoughts ran through your head at a rapid pace and you stopped yourself.
You didn’t deserve to feel this pain.
You threw the mini fridge open and found they had no alcohol stored, but when you walked to the door to run to the bar downstairs, you found a bottle of bourbon at your feet.
A small note was attached and you bent over to inspect it. “Heartbreak’s a bitch, but bourbon isn’t” You realized it must have been from the receptionist and faintly smiled as you picked the glass bottle up.
It was half gone by twelve.
Fell back to sleep,
I got drunk by noon.
I never felt less cool.
It was another day before you gathered the courage to go home. To him.
Standing in front of the cheap and poorly painted door of your apartment, it almost seemed unreal. Walking into what was once a home filled with blissful memories, it was hard to believe there was something sinister behind closed doors.
You cautiously treaded on the wooden floor, not wanting encounter anyone. Much to your dismay, Bucky was sitting on the couch and heard you come in.
“Doll?” He grinned widely, rushing towards you to engulf you in a hug. You stood in the embrace, not moving to hold him too. He took notice and pulled back with a concerned look. “You okay?”
You pulled a sad smile and nodded, “Just tired” The lied passed straight through yor teeth so effortlessly you wondered why you explode on him.
The rest of the day had been filled with silence, besides Bucky’s attempts at starting a conversation. He tried to understand that you were tired, but his frustration was obvious.
we haven’t spoke since you went away
the comfortable silence is so overrated
why won’t you ever say what you want to say?
“Doll, you gotta talk to me. I haven’t had anything to do since you left.” He whined and pouted his bottom lip at you. It was so cute you almost forgave his sins right there.
You scoffed and mumbled under your breath, “But you had someone to do.” You dipped a tea bag into some boiled water and tried to avert your attention.
Bucky furrowed his thick eyebrows, “What was that, love?”
You set the mug aside to sit and rolled your eyes in annoyance. “Nothing, James.” That had caught him off guard, you never called him James.
Why won’t you ever say what you want to say?” He groaned and leaned against the white countertop.
Something in his tone had ticked a nerve, and that’s the exactly moment things went from bad, to hell.
“You wanna know what I have to say?” You snapped, turning around and facing him, anger etched into your features. He gave you a look that urged you to continue, so you did.
“What did you really do while I was gone, hm?”
His stomach dropped for a split second before he regained himself and tried to reason that you had no idea. “Whaddya mean, doll?”
“Oh shut the fuck up James.” The anger and betrayal leaked through your voice and he knew everything was going to change.
“Excuse me?” He tried, feigning confusion to her outburst.
“So who is she, Buck?” You glared into his blue eyes and saw fear flash through them. “An agent? A civilian? Some random whore?” You spat and began to walk away.
“The hell are you talking about, (Y/N)”
“Jesus Christ James! Just stop lying already. I fucking know you’ve been sleeping with someone else.”
The pain that pulsed through your heart showed in your eyes, because Bucky took a step back and felt a knot form in his throat.
“I came home two days ago, and saw you and the skank outside of our door.” You whispered and ran a shaky hand through your hair.
His blue eyes got glassy and he was at a loss for words. For the first time, James Barnes didn’t know what to say to woman. “Doll-”
“STOP CALLING ME THAT DAMNIT!” You screamed slamming your palms on the counter.
“THEN WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?” He yelled back, fat tears starting to roll down his scruffy cheeks.
“NOTHING! IT MAKES IT WAY EASIER TO HATE YOU THAT WAY.” You screamed and blinked rapidly to push the oncoming tears back
“Oh so you’re gonna hate me now? After one lousy mistake?”
He was trying to play the victim. To flip the whole situation like it was your fault he cheated. “Oh stop being such a fucking prick. I know it was more than once.” You turned around and placed your palms on the counter that was previously behind you. “All the nights out. The early morning disappearances. It all makes sense now.” You gritted out through your teeth as the tear spilled over your clenched eyelids.
“Well it wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t such a shit girlfriend. You were never good enough!” He seemed to realize the venomous words that slipped off his tongue and immediately wished he could take them back.
It happened so fast he barely had time to react. The mug filled with hot tea flew passed his head and shattered against the wall as glass flew to every inch of the room. “Maybe everyone was right,” You spoke fiercely before shrinking to a whisper. “I’m not good enough. But at least i’m not a monster like you.”
He had never felt pain like he had in that moment. His stomach knotted so tightly he feared he was going to puke all over. His temples pounded to the beat of his heart and his world spun around him. How had he done this to you, he wondered. To the one person who had ever accepted him after everything he did, and forgave every thing he had done in the past. How had he tainted the one pure thing left in his life? How had he taken every inch of your big heart only to vandalize it with infidelity and hateful words? He hated himself, he hated what he did to you. And he would never forgive himself.
As you rolled your packed luggage to the door, tears soaking your pink cheeks, you paused. Bucky sat crumpled to his knees, his head buried in his hand and he cried roughly. Your heart lurched at the defeated sight, and had it not been for the cab already waiting downstairs, you would have stayed. His crystal blue eyes traced your features, trying to memorize every detail before you walked out of his life forever.
“I hope she was worth it, James.” You whispered before walking out the cheaply painted door, wishing never to see his face again.
Your last words haunted his sleep for years. He had never regretted anything so deeply and sincerely.
On what would have been your 6th anniversary, had he not ruined everything, he picked up his phone and typed in the number that was forever chiseled into his brain. Pressing send, he let out a shaky breath and waited.
He waited and waited for the familiar ding of his phone. But it never came. He would have to wait until death to be relieved from the weight on his shoulders. And he did.
Maybe one day you’ll call me
and tell me that you’re sorry, too.
But you, you never do.