Chapter Text
You lie awake staring at the ceiling. The weight of your blanket holding your body down. The weight of your thoughts trapping you where you lay. You had wanted to sleep, desperately wanted to sleep but with the thoughts running through your head there was no way that was going to happen. This was the third week in a row that you had lay awake each and every night. Your breathing is slow, and steady. Your hands on your chest feeling the rise and fall of each breath. You looked straight ahead, staring at the cream ceiling. The thoughts flying around your mind. You try to control your breathing, but as the thoughts began to race you could feel your chest getting tighter, and you needed to get out of the bed and give up on sleep. The blanket pulled slightly and you turned to your right. There he lay, fast asleep, his mind not playing tricks on him, like yours currently was. He looked so at peace. You can hear his gentle breath, his soft snores, the sign that he was in a deep sleep, so deep it was almost mocking you. You stare at him, his back to you, the physical barrier between the two of you. He had no problem sleeping next to you, he had no idea what was going on with the two of you. He was one word. Oblivious. You could feel the frustration rising from your stomach, and you knew you had to leave the bed before you screamed. Your feet hit the floor, and you pulled the blanket back covering the empty space you now left. You take one moment to look over to him before you leave the room, he was still sleeping soundly, your absence making no difference to his slumber. You wander to the kitchen and as quietly as you can you begin to make yourself a hot chocolate. Stirring the milk in the pan you begin to replay yet another silent evening over in your mind. He, your super soldier boyfriend had been held up at work yet again. You had sat alone waiting for him to return. The last month had the same pattern. Bucky would go to work, you would go to work. You would return from work, make dinner and wait for him to appear. He would appear late, shower and then the two of you would go to bed. Bucky would kiss you good night, and then roll over, his back to you immediately. His snores audible before you had even begun to settle.
It had not always been like this. The two of you had an incredible relationship. Or you did. Now? Now you have a relationship with a cold bed, insomnia and your thoughts. You craved the distance from him, the physical distance to make up for the emotional distance as he slipped further away from you. You knew what you were signing up for, or at least you thought you had. You never really did anticipate what the girlfriend of an Avenger would involve especially for you, someone not special at all. You were average, and there was nothing wrong with that. Your life with an Avenger made you average. You had met him one day as you worked in a small café which happened to be close by to the Stark Tower. He came in everyday and ordered the same black coffee and a slice of cake. He would nurse the coffee, and the slice of cake. 4pm, everyday. He would sit there with a notepad, and obsessively writing. You longed to get to know the dark haired stranger. You would give him free refills, and he would drink at least two cups before he would leave. One day, you had tried to sneak a peek at his notepad and accidentally poured coffee on his left side, he had jumped up, and knocked the coffee cup on the ground. He has profusely apologised, and you had stuttered a “sorry” back at him. That had been the beginning of the most beautiful courtship, and here you were, standing in your kitchen while the love of your life slept soundly without you there.
His feelings for you amplified in the silence of the room. He had been pulling back for weeks, and you had been passive and let it happen. He used to come home, and the two of you would have dinner then curl up on the couch to watch something that you would pick. He would wrap his arms around you, pulling you in tight. He would stroke your hair and tell you about his day, or as much of his day that he could tell you. You tried to make up for the space on the couch without him by stretching out your legs. He would come home and find you asleep on the couch. He wouldn’t wake you. He would go straight and shower before coming to find you. You emptied the contents of the pan, in to your mug and walked over to the couch. You wanted to find comfort in the mug of hot chocolate, but what comfort could it really bring. Sitting down you surveyed the life the two of you shared. Photos adorned the walls, each and everyone one of them a lie. You didn’t recognise the smiling faces in the photos. You couldn’t remember the last time you had smiled, properly smiled. You couldn’t remember the last time you had talked to Bucky properly, more than polite chit chat and you certainly couldn’t remember the last time he had looked at you, really looked at you. You would get a kiss in the morning, a kiss before bed and nothing else.
You stared at one photo in particular. The two of you at your first ever Stark party. You’re on the terrace, his arms around you, and the two of you staring in to each other’s eyes. Clint loved to take candid photos, and this one was spectacular. At that moment you knew you had loved him, and now. Now you weren’t so sure. A single tear rolled down your cheek as you took a mouthful of hot chocolate. You wanted to laugh, a dark laugh, one filled with frustration and sadness. You didn’t know if it was the lack of sleep that was causing you to question his feelings for you, or even your entire relationship. You couldn’t talk to him about it. He wouldn’t understand. He had worked so hard on himself, and the last thing he needed was your insecurity pouring out all over him, so you locked it deep inside of you. This could be the reason you were no longer sleeping.
“Babe?” You jumped as you heard his voice, he was standing in the doorway staring at you. He rubbed his eyes, and you could feel the emotion bubbling up inside of you. You wanted and needed to squash it down. Hold in the pain, the questions and the doubts. He stood there, shirtless with lounge pants hanging low on his hips. He walked over to you, and saw the tears silently rolling down your face.
“Tell me you love me” you whisper and he looks away. Your face crumples, and you look away from him. The sound of silence told you everything you needed to know. He stepped forward, towards you and you stood up.
“Tell me you are happy?” you said, staring at him. He looked away again. You shook your head, knowing what you needed to do. He stands in front of you, his arms up, his hands surrendering to you. You want him to fight for you, to tell you that he is happy, and that he loves you. You want him to pull you in to his chest and hold you, his body telling you all the words he cannot find to say. He doesn’t. You set the cup down on the side table, and push past him. There’s no fight. There never was. You walk in to the bedroom and silently pull on jeans and a jumper before grabbing your purse. You walk to the door, he still hasn’t said a word. Your hand hovers on the door handle. Your mind begging him to stop you, to say anything to you. The pause you took lasted no more than 10 seconds, but it felt like 10 minutes. You wanted so desperately to turn around and take one last look. You didn’t. You grabbed the door handle, and opened the door. You gave him one last chance, and he said nothing so you left. You left your heart with the super soldier standing there. The silence was deafening.