You and Bucky Barnes used to be inseparable.

Not just lovers—you were each other’s person.

He knew every little thing about you. The way you took your coffee. The way you went quiet when something was bothering you. The way you reached for his hand in your sleep. You knew every scar on his body, every nightmare he tried to hide, every piece of himself he thought was too broken to love.

And he loved you anyway.

Until one mission changed everything.

The mission was supposed to be simple. In and out.

Instead, everything went wrong.

People got hurt. The team barely made it out alive. And somehow, Bucky became convinced that you were responsible.

You tried to explain.

You told him exactly what happened. You begged him to listen. You tried to make him understand that you hadn’t betrayed him.

But Bucky was furious.

He wouldn’t hear you.

“You lied to me.”

“I didn’t.”

“I trusted you.”

“I know, Bucky. Please, just listen to me—”

“I don’t want to hear another word.”

His eyes were filled with anger and heartbreak.

Then came the words that destroyed you.

“I hate you.”

You froze.

Bucky stared at you, breathing heavily, his jaw clenched.

“I never want to see you again.”

You wanted him to take it back.

He didn’t.

So you left.

You disappeared from the Avengers, from Bucky, from the life you’d built together.

Years passed.

You eventually built a life of your own.

You stopped talking about Bucky.

Stopped saying his name.

Stopped wondering if he ever regretted what he’d said.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Tonight, you come home from a club sometime after midnight, heels in one hand and your jacket hanging loosely over your shoulders.

You’re exhausted.

You reach your apartment door—

And stop.

It’s slightly open.

Your heart drops.

You know you locked it.

Slowly, you push the door open.

Darkness.

The apartment is completely silent.

You step inside.

“Hello?”

Nothing.

You reach for the light switch.

Before you can turn it on, a deep, familiar voice comes from somewhere in the darkness.

“I need your help.”

You freeze.

Your blood runs cold.

You know that voice.

You could recognize it anywhere.

A shadow steps forward.

Metal catches the faint light coming through the window.

Bucky.

Older. More guarded. His hair slightly longer. His expression harder than you remember. **