Never let Juna cook again. The words of another unfortunate soul who has fallen for Jamie Porter. First person: I don’t know how people feel about that.
TW: Insane jealousy, borderline obsession, is this love or limerence? This is what happens when you try to unravel love as an aromantic person, you just deduce that it’s pretty much insanity, and I think that’s really fun to write.
I do NOT support any of these behaviors. Like yes, be delusional about your crushes, but I sure hope romance doesn’t actually feel like this. Can I actually tell you what it’s like? No, this is Juna being high on caffeine at 2:00 AM and not thinking critically
Okay love you byeeee
His blonde hair blows in the breeze like strands of snowy gold, the sun glows in his eyes, each fleck of gold in his eyes twinkles like stars. He is everything that belongs in a dream. The word beauty trails Jamie like a lingering kiss—but to the unfortunate dreamer, it is bittersweet at best, huffed like the smoggy breath of a cigarette.
Unfortunately, to say that he is poison to my lungs is incorrect. He is innocent, as I listen to his teasing like a bashful bunny. He is not venom, but his words make my heart sting. His true smile—the one where he smiles with his teeth, where the laughter bellows from somewhere deep, that one will make me die faster. It is his teasing which will kill me, I believe.
I believe him like a dog, he guides me on like an angel, and I fall for it like a man. I am a fool, one of many—one of a dozen, one of two. His fault, it is not, but it’s in my heart I blame him. He is only playing because he trusts me as a friend, and I withstand it because I see him as anything but.
Jealousy is a hideous beast, but it’s hard to believe it plagues me when he leans in and makes me think I am anything but. It is hard to believe when he trusts me, when he lets me see the ugly in him. Ugly, that’s a strange word to associate with Jamie. Nothing he could do would possibly be so deterring, and I am a fool to think that. It is in moments like these where I question if I’m in love or limerence.
For that, I hate him. For that, I cannot say my greatest sin is wrath, pride, or sloth, but I must admit that my greatest sin is envy and greed—envy, for I covet how he turns his head to smile at the most beautiful girl I’ve seen at the flower shop—greed, because when I see him smile that true smile, I want it to be because of me.
No, I do not love him. It is something more repulsive. It stabs me like laurels and tightens around my heart—my beautiful heart which all who come across me say they admire me most for. Now, it is thistles instead of blood that run in my veins, and when he comes into mind, I would cough briars than have him whisper sweet nothings into another’s ear. If he must lead me on, at least he can concentrate that suffering onto me.
He who is sculpted by the moon’s gentle rays, whose eyes are pieces of sunlight which have descended upon to Earth, he whose touch makes me believe, because there could be nothing but heaven behind him, I hate him most. I love much, but hate him. He, the sweetest curse—to I, the worst of all.
first of all i have to apologize for not updating all these past months, me head wasn't in the right headspace to do that as intrusive thoughts kept telling me this was bad.
second, i literally rewrote the whole chapter, because i wasn't feeling it anymore as I used to be, it's still very much angsty but I had the feeling I was going a lil too much OOC (but you'll tell me that if it still are)
third and last, imposter syndrome at its best...
i'm truly sorry for made you wait this long
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This fic is also on wattpad and soon on Ao3
Nobody's Soldier playlist on Spotify
CW: talking about trauma, PTSD, nightmares, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning himself), trauma, unexpected feelings, obsession, anxiety, denial, mention of manipulation, slight mention of sa, crying, desperation, unhealthy attachment, limerence, fighting over unrequited feelings, reader has female pronous.
(chapter is 8k words more or less)
chapter 1 is here
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Ch. 2 - Popular monster
Bucky kept checking on his phone, expecting a text from you, an update, anything that would let him know you were ok. But the phone remained silent.
It took you a while to gather the will to leave your bed and eat something, but as soon as you stepped out of the bedroom and looked around the living room, you nearly cried again.
The tv sat there, broken and half torn apart, as a reminder that what happened was all too real.
Your first instinct was to go back to bed and cry until you passed out, but your brain thought otherwise as your body moved on its own. You began picking up random items all over the room and throwing them into large black garbage bags, tv included.
This behaviour wasn’t new or unexpected; you often reacted this way when you were nearing your breaking point, and right now, you were very close to it.
After spending part of the day and night back and forth from your apartment to the dumpster, you finally began to feel exhausted again, your mind finally empty.
But the moment your head hit the pillow, the screen of your phone lit up with a notification.
It was Bucky
Bucky cursed at himself with every word he knew as thoughts slowly began to swirl inside his mind. The clock continued ticking, and the phone lay untouched on the table in front of him.
Should he message you? Would you even want him to? When exactly had he started to care? He pondered these questions as he picked it up once again, debating whether to send you something or not.
But before he could process it all, his fingers acted on their own, opening the chat and typing something, much to his dismay.
-From Bucky: Hey... are you okay?
You probably stared at the preview of his text longer than you'd like to admit, resisting the urge to open it while still grappling with disbelief that he had actually done such a thing.
On the other hand, you didn't want to give him the wrong message, especially since you suspected he had feelings for you.
Yet, the growing sense of relief settling in the pit of your stomach was unmistakable, and you realized something so simple yet so terrifying.
You cared about him. A lot actually.
Bucky's heart raced in his chest as he stared at the chat, waiting for your response. He felt a wild range of emotions, going from a sense of guilt to utter shame.
Shame for not being able to control his growing feelings or for pushing you to the brink of an episode. Still, he couldn't shake the fact that deep down, he knew you were right. That he shouldn't feel this way...and yet, he did.
But all he needed at that moment was to know you were okay.
However, you didn't answer him. Sure, you were about to, more out of habit than anything else, but you were still very much in shock. The thought that the situation was utterly crazy wouldn’t leave your mind.
Nonetheless, you had to stop this, whatever this was, from spiralling into something you couldn't control.
You didn't sleep much after that. By the time you crawled back into bed, it was already early morning, so you decided to resume reading.
Maybe this would help to distract you for a while, you thought. But as soon as you went to pick up a book, memories flooded your mind.
You remembered that time when Bucky called you after a nightmare and how you helped him calm down by reading him your favourite story.
This whole situation felt like torture, and the strangest part was that you couldn't stop thinking about how, with just a simple hug, he had made you feel better than you had in years.
On the other hand, Bucky felt a sense of despair welling up in his chest when no answer came, as anxiety gnawed at him.
You were the one suffering the consequences, and he was the only one to blame. A frustrated huff escaped his lips as he ran his metal hand through his hair, then collapsed onto the couch with a loud groan.
Thoughts flooded his mind, too many to be healthy. In an act of desperation, he unlocked his phone again, texting you... again.
-From Bucky: Please... say something.
You eventually fell asleep, your reading glasses on and the book resting on your chest. When you woke up later that day, your phone screen was lit with yet another text.
...say something... the message read, simple as that, making you feel guilty for not responding earlier. You knew you didn't have to reply, but you couldn’t help but think that maybe you were exaggerating the whole situation. Perhaps it was just a slip-up and nothing more.
But another part of you, the rational side, kept reminding you that this was how everything had started.
The manipulation, the controlling habits, the abuse. It all started with someone developing feelings right when you were at your weakest.
You couldn't do this anymore, not when you had worked so hard to get to where you were now.
You chose not to answer again, confident that somehow he would get over it.
Bucky's mind raced as he stared at his phone, willing a reply to appear on the screen.
All he wanted, was some sort of sign, anything that let him know you were okay. That you weren't as mad at him, at least not completely. That you still felt comfortable enough to talk with him.
But when hours passed and you hadn't answered, his heart sank as more thoughts started to creep in.
The realization that he had lost you overwhelmed him, leaving him feeling numb.
His eyes started to prick with tears as he cursed himself for letting his emotions get the best of him. He couldn't wallow in despair, not over you, not over someone he barely knew.
But someone who seemed to understand him.
No, he couldn’t go there. He had to distract himself and focus on something else.
So, with a deep breath, he stood up and turned on the tv, trying to fill the silence of his apartment, which had become too loud for him in that moment
After that incident, nearly three weeks passed. You returned to your usual safe routine, but it felt like something was wrong, like something was clearly missing.
Then one morning, just after breakfast, your phone rang and Dr. Raynor's number appeared on the screen.
It was strange, she had never called you before. When you answered and she asked where Bucky was, you felt confused.
It turned out he had stopped showing up for his therapy sessions without saying a word. She had tried to reach out to him, but he didn't pick up.
He was alive, that much she knew, yet you could clearly hear the concern in her voice.
After you explained what had happened between the two of you, how he had come over and the incident that followed, she added something that left you stunned and altered the perception you had of him up to that point.
His whole history, the abuse, the manipulation, who he was and the... arm.
“The arm?” you curiously asked, not quite getting what she meant.
“He has a prosthetic arm, a vibranium one...” the doctor began to explain, her tone careful “...although it's not the same as the one he had, it's a harsh reminder of what happened to him and what he did.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t mention this sooner, but it’s already complicated as it is,” she added.
At her words, the pieces started to fall into place. His behaviour, the way he addressed you, how he looked around the apartment as soon as he walked in and the… gloves he hadn’t taken off that day.
Another hour passed as Dr. Raynor continued to explain that Bucky still saw himself as some kind of monster, an experiment and how losing himself for so long had inevitably changed him. It only made sense that once the call was over, you texted him without thinking twice.
You were worried and maybe a little furious.
-to Bucky: your doctor called me. Why did you stop therapy? You know you have to go.
Then you quickly added a second one.
-to Bucky: she also gave me the whole story, your story I mean.
Bucky was laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to get himself to relax enough to sleep. He had been feeling exceptionally crappy, for lack of a better word, having spent the whole night awake when his phone went off.
His mind was in a constant battle, and all he wanted was some peace and quiet. So when he lazily picked up his phone to check and saw your name, the first thing he felt was relief.
However, as he eagerly sat up, he almost dropped the phone when he read your texts, his heart nearly stopping.
The doctor told you everything... Those words echoed in his head as his thoughts spiralled out of control.
He had been lying to you for the most part. He hadn't meant to keep things from you, but deep down, he knew you would see him differently from now on. You would look at him with pity, unable to see him as a person anymore, but rather as... a monster.
He desperately wanted to text you back, but he felt stuck, unsure of what to say or do.
So he just lay on his bed for the next half hour, his phone still clutched in his fingers as he tried to come up with something that wouldn’t push you away again.
All he needed was to see you, but he was terrified of how you would react now that you knew about his secret.
Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes stretched into hours as anxiety began to eat him alive, until he finally pressed send.
-from Bucky:..It’s complicated... can we talk tomorrow? I’ll come over.
You didn't expect a fast reply, hell you didn’t expect a reply at all.
So when he texted back after hours of leaving you on read, the content of his message startled you.
...I’ll come over... The words ran through your mind, almost triggering your panic as you tried to come up with a polite reply.
You knew you had to start somewhere, but you felt torn.
You were caught between wanting to give him a chance to explain and the absolute fear that something worse might happen if you saw him again.
-to Bucky: we'll see about that..but you can call me, we can still talk…if you want.
You suggested instead, thinking it would be better for both of you, at least for now.
Bucky stared at your words for a long minute, a small smile grazed his lips while his heart did a weird flip in his chest.
You hadn’t said a definitive no to his request, you were still willing to talk to him. But those words, that we'll see about that lingered in his mind, giving him a glimmer of hope while leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.
As he fought the growing urge to call you right then and there, he decided to send a message first.
-from Bucky: I’ll call you in ten, alright?
He sent the text and hastily placed his phone on the bedside table, letting out a shaky breath.
If you agreed, there was a good chance he would get to hear your voice, something he hadn’t realized how he missed so much until now.
For a long moment, after his last reply, you stared at the short message almost as if it were some kind of riddle waiting to be solved. A smile crept onto your face at his eagerness without you even noticing it.
What the fuck were you doing? Why were you smiling? You chided yourself, shaking your head in confusion as you tried to suppress the knot forming in your stomach.
With ten more minutes until the phone call, you thought distracting yourself would be a good idea, more to calm your nerves than anything else.
Instead, Bucky's call came a few minutes early, and you didn’t pick up, your phone lay on the bed while you were in the next room.
Bucky had to resist the urge to call you again immediately after he sent the text.
His mind wouldn’t quiet down, racing with thoughts about a million things. About hearing your voice again, the possibility that maybe you weren't as mad at him as he thought, and how nervous he suddenly felt.
And the ten minutes felt like an eternity.
He tried to keep himself busy and away from the phone, but as soon as the ten minutes were up, he found himself with his phone in hand, calling you... only to be sent to voicemail.
He was not panicking, absolutely not.
His thoughts immediately spiralled into worst-case scenarios. maybe you had changed your mind or maybe calling you was indeed a mistake.
But he tried to push those feelings aside, convincing himself that you were probably just busy.
And while those thoughts filled his mind, he found himself in the middle of his fourth time re-dialling your number. The ringing sound the only thing echoing in the room.
On the other hand, you had lost track of time while focusing on cleaning the apartment, a standard behaviour when you were unable to concentrate and something clearly upset you.
When you finally checked your phone, you nearly dropped it upon seeing five missed calls.
"Damn it Bucky, you wasted no time," you mumbled with a sigh.
That alone should have served as a warning sign, but you ignored it completely. Thinking nothing of it, you called him as you sat down on your bed, waiting for him to pick up.
Bucky was startled when his phone suddenly rang. His eyes fixed on the screen as your name appeared, causing his heart to leap into his throat and almost miss the call.
When he finally answered, a shuddering breath escaped his lips before he said anything.
"Hey," he said quietly, a nervous smile tugging at his lips while anxiety fluttered in the pit of his stomach, waiting for an answer… craving it even.
His soft exhale, the hushed hello and his gentle tone caught you off guard, making your cheeks blush slightly.
It had been long since you heard his voice you thought, still reluctant to admit you missed him…in a way.
"Eager much..?" you joked, attempting to break the awkward silence between you and hide your distress.
"How are you?.." you added then, genuinely asking. It had been weeks since his last therapy session after all, and even though you both had a setback, you wanted to check on him, making sure he was okay.
Bucky chuckled lightly at your words, the small smile on his face widening slightly.
"Sorry for the multiple calls. You didn't answer so I was..." panicking the hell out. He almost confessed, then he cleared his throat and continued, not particularly keen on discussing how worried he had been up to that moment.
"M'fine, mostly. How have you been?" he asked instead, quickly dismissing your question, trying to stay calm and hoping you wouldn't notice how strained his voice really was.
"You don't have to justify your worry, y'know?" you said honestly, understanding where his words were headed. Then he lied, probably out of habit.
"And…I know you're not, if you were, why did your doctor call me this morning?." you stated, your tone soft yet firm, not wanting him to feel at fault.
Meanwhile, if you had to be completely honest, he didn't seem that dangerous. Maybe a little eager, but not a total red flag.
Bucky's breath hitched the moment you called him out, and he cursed himself for it.
Of course you’d noticed, he should have expected you to be more observant than most people.
"Right.." he said, running a hand through his hair, letting out a tired sigh as he did so.
"The good doctor called you, huh?” he asked ironically, unable to hold back a bitter remark.
"C'mon she's not that bad" you playfully replied, still sitting on the bed as a light huff left your lips.
“She’s just worried…” you added, your tone gentle yet firm “...and to be honest, I am too”
Bucky let out a small chuckle as you teased him about his doctor, rolling his eyes even though you couldn't see him. But then you said more, catching him off guard.
Were you worried? Did that mean you probably cared? Right?
He immediately shook that thought away, it wasn’t the right time, not now, though those words kept lingering in his head.
“You? Worried? About me?..” he asked, genuinely baffled by your comment as a slight frown crossed his face.
"Yeah, Bucky...y'know like a normal human being would.." you bit back, not really annoyed, at least not that much, as it wasn't entirely his fault...or so you thought.
"There is so much going on lately, like being affected by someone trying to help you?” you stated honestly, not wanting to scold him but rather hoping to settle things.
“Maybe we can talk about that? "
From honest discussions to fights, you had learned not to shy away from confrontation anymore. It was something you picked up in therapy. Now, when a problem presented itself, you just went straight to the point, only to find out that most people couldn't handle a simple conversation.
Bucky's heart picked up once again when you hinted at his behaviour, and he honestly had no idea how to deal with it.
You really didn't hold back, did you, sweetheart? he thought, nervously running his metal fingers through his hair as he tried to come up with a decent answer.
Finally, he let out a weary exhale before speaking again.
"It's not that simple. But yeah, we can talk about it..." he said quietly, as the weight of shame settled back in.
After his answer, after sensing his evident reluctance, you couldn't help but feel a little guilty about your words. However, it was no use dwelling on it.
"No? Then talk to me. Believe it or not, I'm not mad at you" you urged him, your voice still gentle.
What you were trying to do was reassure him and help if possible, even if it meant confronting an uncomfortable truth.
“I've been there before, I know how it seems… " you added, showing him that you understood what he was going through.
You? So you weren’t mad at him. Why? You should have been, it's what he deserved.
Bucky was speechless for a moment longer as your words sank in. He had made you uncomfortable and pressured you, this was his fault.
His throat felt constricted, and he had to swallow once, then twice, before he could answer.
"Y'mean, someone... had feelings for you? In therapy?" he found himself asking instead, unnerved by the thought of someone becoming obsessed with you, knowing deep down he was doing the same.
You should have seen that coming, still, yet it still took you by surprise.
"It's.. it's one the reasons I'm still dealing with the program, Bucky..." you replied, your tone growing quiet.
You understood that, as your therapy partner or former one, he should have been informed about the situation. Still, it was hard to articulate.
"It was straight-up manipulation, as my doctor put it. This other person, he..well...he… he used me" you tried, but the words wouldn't come out. Staring into nothing, you felt too scared of another episode happening. Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself as you felt panic building inside you.
"I honestly thought it was real, I thought it was love…” you added, your voice barely above a whisper by the end.
Bucky felt his heart sink the moment you began to explain. Those words were all too familiar, and they hurt him as guilt washed over him again.
"I'm sorry for what happened to you...." he only said, his jaw clenching as he spoke, yet his voice sounded almost gentle.
He wanted to say much more; he wanted to express how much he hated himself for nearly doing the same to you. But the words got stuck in his throat, leaving him feeling like a coward.
I'm sorry I did that to you, he thought, as guilt consumed his mind.
"You... you know I would never do anything like that to you, right?" he asked carefully, trying to change the subject while feeling nervous about a possible backlash.
At his words, you let out a light scoff, noticing how tense his voice had suddenly become.
"No shit, Buck..." you joked after a moment “.. I would hope so” you added quietly, shaking your head in disbelief, hoping it was true.
For Christ's sake, you even found him attractive, you thought, as a small smile tugged at your lips.
"But I'm at fault too, I should have thought better than to hug you like I did, no matter how bad I was feeling..." you stated, genuinely believing it was your fault as well.
"It gives off the wrong idea...most of the time”
After everything that had happened, you blamed yourself? Thinking you caused all this? He thought, staring at the floor as he processed your words in his head, feeling even worse.
Good job, Bucky. Really great job. he chided himself silently.
"You... didn’t know where you were. You had a panic attack..." he said, hating the idea of you taking responsibility for something like that. He knew damn well you weren’t in control of your actions during an episode. He had been there before, more times than he could possibly count.
"I'm the one at fault... not you," he said firmly, remorse coursing through him with every word he spoke.
"Bucky...I.. " you started to say, feeling the need to try and justify yourself once more."... I was just grounding myself " you confessed, falling back onto the bed with a frustrated groan as you ran a hand over your face.
"Still, I...I got you what? Obsessed? Addicted? Whatever this is..." you added, not really asking any actual questions but rather stating a fact."... surely something went wrong here”
Bucky’s thoughts momentarily halted as you spoke.
"No!... no, no, no. You didn't do anything." He shot back, his voice laced with disbelief at how much you were taking the brunt of his mistakes.…"..you didn't ask me to feel this way, sweetheart. I did it myself, it’s on me.”
He hesitated, mentally scolding himself for letting that term slip out so easily. Yet, he felt compelled to make sure you understood that none of this was your fault, that you were innocent and he wasn't. You were simply trying to be kind, nothing more
"Do you really think you're responsible?” he honestly asked again.
"Well...yeah?..." you replied, your voice uncertain. That little name didn’t go unnoticed, leaving you taken aback as your cheeks dusted pink instinctively. "...I mean, my first therapy partner thought I led him so..." you added quietly.
And it was the truth. In the very early stages of the program, before Bucky was involved and before you were even paired with anyone, you met a lot of people.
Most of them complete idiots.
"It's one of the reasons why I flinch when someone suddenly touches me when I'm not myself.." you confessed, feeling a wave of shame rise within you. "...that's why I reach out and hold onto whatever I can find most of the time”
Bucky's heart tightened uncomfortably as you referred to the people you had met before him.
Led him on? Seriously? Why was your first partner such a jerk? Did he even have any issues? he thought, listening to your explanation.
Bucky felt horrible. He was already upset about his slight obsession and how he had made you uncomfortable, but now, hearing you open up about your past and how others had treated you, he felt even worse.
He was no better than all of them.
"Then... why did you hug me?” he asked simply, letting out a deep sigh as his tone grew quieter, almost apologetic.
"Because you were there and felt safe..." you blurted out without much thinking, your gaze fixed on the ceiling.
“ And I... I was weak.." you added, feeling embarrassed to admit the truth as you tried to find a rational explanation for your behaviour.
But then, you remembered how terrified you had been right after when irrational fear took over.
Bucky's heart fluttered at that. Did you feel safe with him? Could he calm you down? You trusted him? The realization took him off guard as his brain processed the information.
He had to take another deep breath to steady his heartbeat while a small smile appeared on his face.
But then he remembered your reaction afterwards and that same smile faded, making him want to scream in frustration.
"I felt safe?..." he asked, more to himself than to you, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. But you were on the other end of the line and heard anyway…
"But you? You flinched away..” he added, trying to make sense out of your words.
"That's how irrational fears work usually.." you said bluntly, letting out a heavy sigh.
"Trusting you as a person? Yes absolutely, I could do that..." you tried to reassure him, hearing silence on the other end.
"But as a man? it's a little more complicated, to put it simply” you explained, trying to make it as clear as possible and leaving no space for misunderstanding.
If that meant you wouldn’t hear from Bucky anymore, so be it.
“I still don't know if you want something out of me..or not" you added quietly.
But those words stung him more than he would like to admit, though he wasn’t surprised. No, he clearly understood your point; still, it hurt to hear you say that, even if he was the one at fault.
He ran a hand through his hair again and swallowed hard as you continued, feeling as though he was being accused.
You knew him well already, because your words hit the mark as you called him out once again. An irrational anger welled up inside him, and he swallowed hard.
He didn’t want you to be scared of him, after all, he needed you. You were the only one, after so many years, who finally understood him and made him feel calm.
"Why would you even think I want anything from you?” he said, a slight edge creeping into his voice, his tone turning unexpectedly cold.
The change in tone genuinely frightened you. You hadn’t seen it coming.
"With the way you got so obsessed, so quickly...” you started, trying to keep yourself as calm as possible, relieved there was a phone between you both.
“Or... how you already sound pissed, even after I’ve tried to reason with you..." you continued, sitting back up at the edge of the bed.
This whole situation started to scare you more than it should. You just wanted to live your life peacefully, nothing more, nothing less.
"I'm sorry Buck but...I don't.." you added, fear and guilt plaguing your mind at this point, wanting nothing more than to put an end to this conversation already. “...I don't think we should speak again, not until you work on these issues by yourself…”
Bucky felt like someone had stabbed him right in his chest with a rusted knife. All the guilt and shame he felt earlier were soon replaced by anger.
You? Wanted to stop talking? Cut all contact? What about him then? What would be of him without your soothing voice? he thought. He couldn’t do that, not now, not ever.
"We're not doing that.” he snapped. The very thought of never hearing your voice again, not talking to you, triggered something deep inside him. His heart was racing in his chest as he spoke through clenched teeth.
When he spoke again, his tone had grown slightly more threatening, and that's when you reacted. Although calm and collected most of the time, there were times, usually when someone crossed a line or something felt off, that another side of you came out.
"You don’t realize it, do you? Even now? You’re so desperate to be accepted that you can’t see how you're behaving?..." you said, your voice raising a little as your tone sharpened.
"Can’t you see how your little addiction is clouding your mind? It’s really a simple concept to understand..." you continued, frustration edging into your voice.
"Having feelings for someone doesn't mean forcing that obsession on them. And here I thought you were smart, but clearly, I was wrong.”
Bucky was taken aback by your sudden outburst. You spoke with passion and determination, far from the calm and gentle demeanour you usually showed him, and your words stung.
However, they also made a few pieces click into place. You were right, you had been from the very beginning.
But that realization only infuriated him even more.
"How dare you judge me? You're no better than I am.” he retorted, his voice rising with each word that left his mouth, still reeling from a mix of anger and blame.
"You have irrational fears and trauma just like I do. Don't you dare pretend that I'm the bad guy here."
Deep down, he knew he was taking out his anger on you, even though you didn't deserve it. But it felt like he couldn't stop, his mind tangled in a haze of angry thoughts. Above all, he was terrified of losing you.
You might have laughed when he snapped back, if the situation hadn't been so tense and if you weren't feeling so scared. But that didn't mean you had nothing to say in return. After all, it wasn’t the first time someone had used your situation to hurt you.
"Really? I’m judging you now? " you repeated in disbelief, scoffing slightly as you didn’t quite believe what you just heard.
"I never said I was better than anyone, not even you. I know my problems, but at least I can manage my own feelings.." you added, not even bothering to defend yourself against his accusations.
"So how dare you speak to me like that …”
Your words only turned his anger into desperation, and Bucky stopped making sense. You were taunting him, teasing him, mocking him even and he knew It was only his fault. Unfortunately, even if he understood, that realization did nothing to ease his feelings in that moment.
"You really have no idea how you affect me? How you make me feel?" he spat out, guilt overwhelming him along with hurt.
"Why do you think I became obsessed in the first place, huh?” he added, taking a deep breath and trying to calm his racing mind, his body tense with emotions.
"And now you're telling me you don’t want to speak with me anymore? Just banishing me like that, without a second thought?"
He could attend all the therapy sessions possible, and it wouldn’t change a damn thing. How you made him feel, how you made him laugh, smile, and long for more.
And that was the one truth that terrified him the most.
"You really think I can stay away from you?" he suddenly asked, his voice both distressed and unsteady, almost on the verge of tears.
The pain in his last words made you pause for a moment as remorse began to creep in.
Was he truly hurting that bad? Did he really not do it on purpose?
"Then tell me.." you started, your tone softening as you sought a way out of this pointless fight.
"If I have no clue as you said, talk to me…… let me understand,” you added, trying once again to reason with him, hoping it would be the last time.
But even now, your first instinct was to distance yourself from him as much as possible. You thought you understood, but you were still very much afraid, unable to shake the feeling that this situation would only worsen.
Bucky felt his jaw clench as you asked him why. He didn’t know how to answer, his mind was working against him, and the right words eluded him.
He knew he was going too far, but it felt impossible to stop. The prospect of rejection and blame weighed heavily on him.
"What about…” he started “...what about the fact that just hearing your voice drives me crazy? That, the more I talk to you, the more I want you? ” he confessed, his voice quiet yet edged with emotions as his heart ached.
“I'm… I’m obsessed with you, happy now?”
He was obsessed, and he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t change the fact that he was feeling something he hadn’t felt in years. And if this was what obsession felt like, then so be it.
"The problem is wanting to control me, Bucky..." you retorted “...the problem is shoving all your sudden feelings onto me”
“The problem is making me feel guilty" you went on, your voice growing serious, sounding angrier than you intended.
At that you stood up, nervously pacing up and down the room, your jaw clenching as you tried to keep the anger down.
"I should be yours no matter what, that’s what you’re saying? Just because you are hooked on my voice?" you bit back, almost as if you were accusing him, stopping in your tracks as a frustrated sigh left your mouth.
Bucky hated the way you described his feelings. But the more you talked the more he realized, for real this time, how he was acting. How he let his desperation, his fears control him as soon as you said you didn’t want to speak with him anymore, that you wanted to stay away.
You were being reasonable, he was the one who started acting crazy.
"I wasn't trying to control your actions, doll. I just..." he only said then, stopping only to better collect his thoughts as the little nickname slipped out his lips without realizing it.
"I need you. You have no idea how calming you are for me, how I find myself craving to hear your voice..." he continued, speaking in a low frustrated tone, his anger now mingled with his inner desperation as he felt his eyes starting to sting.
"You're the first person that understands, how do you expect me to stop needing you?”
"This is not the right way to do it, clearly.." you replied, still slightly pissed at his stubbornness, but noticing how he was starting to calm down.
"The thing is, emotions are never wrong, you just learn to manage them..." you went on while now pacing back and forth in the living room.
Still, you felt stressed, on edge even as the whole discussion brought up some unresolved issues that you completely forgot about. You could only hope that it wouldn’t bring up a panic attack as well.
"When you have feelings for anyone, or supposed to have..." you started, mostly annoyed now "..you don't need them, to the point of feeling sick"
Then you stopped for a moment, sighing heavily and closing your eyes, your fingers went to pinch at the bridge of your nose as you tried to think about what you were about to say.
"Jesus, I can't believe I'm explaining this.." you huffed then, calming down your nerves.
"When you feel something, you want to spend more time with them” you then started explaining, hoping it would break down into his stubbornness.
”Needing someone is a coping mechanism.." as your voice wavered a little “...you know what a coping mechanism is, right? "
Bucky clenched his jaw even more when you spoke. He did, in fact, know what a coping mechanism was.
He also knew that you were absolutely right with what you were saying.
His obsession, was a coping mechanism, an unhealthy one. He had gotten obsessed with you because you were the first person that made him feel something good, so he latched onto it, not wanting to let go.
He felt a pang of guilt in his chest.
"I know what a coping mechanism is..." he muttered through gritted teeth.
"But I didn’t do it on purpose. I just couldn’t help it. You make me feel calm, you make me forget about everything. You make me want to try again."
Now the hint of anger, the bite he had in his tone had disappeared almost completely, replaced with pure panic.
"How am I supposed to deal with that, huh? You feel so so good to me.”
Hearing the change in Bucky's voice made you stop suddenly as your heart clenched at the fear now evident in his tone. You felt bad with the way you were speaking to him but at the same time you didn't, given the fact that, maybe, you were able to knock some sense into him.
"That's why I.." you started, voice now more gentle than before "... I told you we should be apart for a while"
It wasn't ideal, not even for you since you were at fault too here. With the way you acted when you hugged him or with how dangerously comfortable you were getting with him.
Feeling so calm and safe with someone you barely know shouldn't be happening. You reminded yourself more than once.
"If I'm the trigger here, you should understand how much of your feelings are real and..." you stopped for a fraction, realization dawning on you as well.."...and how much is just an unhealthy obsession.."
If you were just a means to an end in this absurd scenario, just something to help him cope with, then you don't want to be. You wanted to be seen, for yourself, as a person.
Bucky's heart was beating faster in his chest, your words, your reasoning filled his mind and he found himself agreeing with that. Still, despair and guilt filled his heart as the sole thought of not hearing from you anymore felt so wrong to him.
"You're not a trigger..." he protested, weakly so as his voice wavered slightly.
But you were once more right. What he was feeling towards you wasn't normal, wasn't right. He was obsessed with you because you made him feel calm at a time when he was at his lowest.
"I want you..." he mumbled, his voice lacking the greedy, possessive edge he had before.
"I don't want to lose you…please” he pleaded with you, desperate to make you agree to stay, at least, in touch.
"I'll do anything. I'll work on myself, find a way to deal with this obsession." he insisted, absolutely hating using that word, even if it was the truth.
"Please, don't cut me off. I'll lose my mind if you do.”
You exhaled deeply, moving to sit on the couch and taking the phone with you. He was doing it again, begging you. But again, it was just the addiction talking.
"Then what, Bucky?.." you asked then, after a long moment, exhaling deeply as you closed your eyes..."... every time you need a fix, you call me?.."
You know you didn't have to be so harsh right now, but you truly wanted him to realize how deep he was in this and how bad it was affecting him.
"It's the addiction talking here.." you added as another deep sigh left your lips...
"You're not even asking yourself if I feel something for you..." you stated as your stomach churned the more the anxiety grew…
"You only see what I can do for you..."
Guess you weren't that lucky. But with the history you had, that didn’t surprise you much. Maybe it was really your fault. Maybe you really led them on. Maybe they got obsessed because you did something.
You really don’t know, but everytime you tried your best and this time you truly believed he could have been the right therapy partner for you.
That was a low blow, but Bucky knew you were right.
He really hadn’t even thought about the possibility that you might not feel something for him, that he was hurting you by acting like this.
He had been selfish… no, he had been damn greedy. He was using you as his own personal drug, his only way to feel better.
He wanted to protest, to fight back, but he couldn’t.
"That’s not true..." he muttered, his voice even more laced with guilt and desperation now.
He wanted to tell you that he actually cared for you, that it wasn’t just about what you could do for him. He wanted to tell you that he saw you as a person, not just as a way to feel less alone but he couldn’t.
Because he had been treating you like an object, like a goddamn cure for his loneliness, he was using you exactly like others did.
And the worst thing was that, deep down, he knew what that felt like and that made him feel even more horrible.
"I thought I was doing the right thing..." He protested weakly, still trying to convince you, still trying to bargain his place in your life.
"I'm not..." you started, stopping mid-sentence soon after to recollect your thoughts, trying to find the right words.
But his words, his final candid confession, his regret, all this made your heart ache, probably more than you could have imagined. But, at least, he finally saw the whole picture.
"I'm not blocking you Bucky, that I can do but you need to go back to therapy.." you stated, a slight tremble in your voice betraying how you really felt as you were questioning yourself if it was the right thing to do.
"Go back to your doctor, talk with her about everything but not for me or anyone else..." you added, your voice now gentle.
"Do it for yourself, to feel better..."
Hoping that your final advice would suffice, that your words would be heard once and for all, and that he would finally try to understand why he was acting like this.
Bucky remained silent for a long minute as he listened to you. Deep down, he knew you were right about everything, realizing he had been selfish and obsessive without a valid reason, treating you poorly and being a terrible therapy partner.
And the thought that you might despise him for it hurt his heart the most.
"I will, I promise." He answered finally, taking a deep breath as his voice was still shaky and broken.
"But, what about you?" He dared to ask after another minute of silence, still the idea of letting you go tearing his heart apart.
"What about me, what?.." you chuckled softly, caught off guard by the sudden question.
You were aware he just wanted you to keep talking to him, that he just wanted to have your voice in his ear. Maybe there was a small part of him that cared about you, about what you would do without him around but still.
He was a goddam addict right now, acting desperately like one.
"I'll just keep with mine I guess.." you said honestly, sighing heavily as your voice went soft. The whole so-called fight had drained you, making you even more tired than you already were.
"Still, i don't know what I'll do with the program though, for now at least"
To be fair, you weren't sure what you were going to do next. If you would find another partner or quit the program altogether. But saying it out loud, voicing the inner thoughts inside your head, definitely helped making a decision.
"Uhm listen, Bucky..I...I have to go.." you suddenly said then, trying to find a way to close the call without hurting him further.
"But as I said, you still have my number, just...if you message me I can't assure you a reply, ok?" you added, reassuring him still even if your brain reminded you how stupid this decision was.
The words struck him harder than any bullet could have. He felt the jolt of panic, wanting desperately to keep you on the phone, feeling his eyes welling up. No, he knew he couldn’t explode with everything he was feeling or he’d lose you forever.
He knew he needed your voice in his ear, needed to hear you talk to him, needed you like air to breathe.
But his hand was shaking as he held the phone to his ear, struggling to stop himself from begging. He swallowed, realizing he’d been silent while you assured him you wouldn’t block his number even if you won’t text him back.
That gave him the tiniest reassurance, but the doubt nagged at him almost instantly. Would you stick to your word? What if you didn’t? Panic lapped at his heels again and he clenched his jaw, forcing his words down.
"I understand." He whispered, his voice low and uncertain.
Don't beg, don't beg, don’t beg...Bucky repeated to himself as he felt a familiar sense of obsession creeping back in.
He had to fight it, he had to stop this before it consumed him completely. After all, he had promised to return to his therapist, to try and deal with this issue, to begin feeling better.
After that heartfelt call, he reached out to you the very same night. However, as you mentioned, you chose to ignore it, not wanting to give him a false sense of hope or start another discussion so soon.
A week went by, and then his doctor called you again, asking for your side of the story. At that, you recounted everything that had happened, sharing every detail you could remember of without placing the blame on him, convinced it wasn’t entirely his fault.
And what she told you helped you understand the situation better. She explained that Bucky had an episode of limerence, a state characterized by an intense infatuation that bordered on obsession most of the time, and that it was dangerous for the current state of his mind.
She also advised you to maintain some distance for the time being, a decision you had already considered, since she wanted to break through the patterns deeply rooted in his mind.
"James' not a bad man, it's just that people had shown him very little kindness for a long time," she added. She suggested that while some of his feelings might be genuine, she wasn’t entirely sure, encouraging you to act according to your feelings when you heard from him again.
“Just be honest with him, for both your sakes,” she concluded before ending the call with another thoughtful piece of advice.
After that conversation, you felt a sense of relief, to be honest, as much as an unexpected happiness.
Why were you even happy?
Why were you so relieved that his feelings could be real?
Did you actually have feelings for him?
Regardless, you followed her advice, until more than two months later when you finally heard from Bucky again.
It had been a long, hard two months for Bucky.
His therapy sessions focused on helping him work through his feelings and analyze his behaviors. He realized he had become obsessed with you, but it took him a while to understand the root of that obsession.
After much reflection, he discovered that his desire for you stemmed from a deep need for connection. Unlike many others, you had seen him not as an asset or a monster, but for who he truly was. This realization helped him make significant progress.
It was tough for him to go without talking to you, as his thoughts continually returned to the conversation you shared and your words.
However, he was working hard to manage his feelings, control himself, and learn to understand the difference between obsession and genuine emotions.
Finally, when his therapist gave him the green light to reach out to you, he didn’t hesitate. With a somewhat clearer mind, he picked up his phone, his hands shaking. After what felt like an eternity, he sent you a message.
-from Bucky: Can I call you?
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If you're here so you read it all, and for that I thank you (let me know what you think about it)
Again, i'm sorry for the wait, i want to promise you all I'll do better next time, and I want to keep it that way, I just hope my brain won't fail me again.
Also, there will be a bonus chapter later next week, it's something I wrote as literally a...bonus...so you're free to read it or not, it doesn't change the story <3
Another apology is needed I guess, as I made a promise but I didn't kept it, kinda. In my defence, I had to take care of a few things in real life (my dog wasn't feeling well) and online as I manage an edit account on TikTok as well .
But anyway, like I said before, this is a bonus chapter, something I wanted to write that adds some depth to the story (I rewatched the series as well to take some inspiration for this). It's not really necessary to read it, since it's Bucky and Doctor Raynor talking, but it's worthy :)
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This fic is cross-posted on wattpad and Ao3
Nobody's Soldier playlist on Spotify
CW: talking about trauma, PTSD, Bucky being insecure and emotional, trauma, light mention of past trauma, therapy session, denial, just Bucky and his therapist talking, limerence, resolving past issues, acceptance, worthy of love and affection, guilt, winter soldier mentioned.
(chapter is roughly 2k long, so it's a short one)
chapter 1 is here
chapter 2 is here
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Bonus - a therapy session with Doctor Raynor
As each day passed, Bucky grew increasingly frustrated by the lack of response from you. He had been doing better when he was able to talk to you, but now? Now it was bad all over again, worse even.
He even started sleeping on the floor again, just like he used to, instead of the bed. His mind was once again filled with memories and images that he certainly didn’t wish to remember. At least not now.
However, he kept his promise and began to work even harder in therapy, both with Doctor Raynor and in the support group he attended.
He longed to reach out to you, to hear your voice or read your words, but he had promised you that he would wait.
And after long, dreadful months of waiting, he finally had one of his last therapy sessions about what happened.
He sat in the chair across from her, frustration and impatience evident on his face. Doctor Raynor observed him silently for a few moments before finally speaking up.
“You look… irritated, James,” she commented, her tone deadpan as always.
Bucky just scowled at her observation.
“You could say that…” he muttered, his voice low and laced with a hint of annoyance.
The doctor raised an eyebrow at his response.
“Any particular reason for that irritation?” she asked, her tone calm, with a touch of curiosity.
Bucky let out an exasperated sigh at that.
“I just… I haven’t heard from her in over a month..” he admitted, his voice betraying his true feelings.
Doctor Raynor tilted her head slightly, studying his expression.
“Ah, I see…the limerence” she replied, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms on her chest as she regarded him with a calmness that he found rather frustrating.
Bucky’s scowl deepened as he acknowledged the truth again.
“Yeah… that’s what you called it, right…?” he said, the word still leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.
The doctor nodded, her expression still impassive.
“Yes, as I told you it’s a term used to describe an intense, obsessive attraction to someone that isn’t based on reality” She paused for a moment, studying his expression to gauge his reaction.
Bucky gave another resigned sigh, running a hand through his hair nervously.
“I know, I know, …it’s not real. It’s just, I can’t help it…” he clenched his jaw, silently cursing himself again for his lack of self-control.
“Alright, give me a break, I’m trying ok?” he added almost too quickly. ”... I didn’t have a moment to deal with what happened, y’know? A moment to breathe…”
Doctor Raynor let out a soft hum, tapping her pen against her notebook.
“It’s understandable that you’re experiencing these feelings. It’s normal for someone in your situation to crave contact with people who can understand you…” she paused for a moment, clearly considering her next words.
Bucky leaned forward in his seat, listening intently.
He desperately wanted her to give him some kind of advice, something that could help ease the ache in his chest. It felt like he was missing a part of himself, and it hurt.
Then the doctor continued, her voice gentle yet firm.
“However, it’s important for you to remember that addictions aren’t healthy. It’s no good for you to believe you need something or someone to be okay” she added, as she looked at him, studying his expressions changing as she waited for him to reply.
Bucky knew she was right, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept how he felt.
“I know that...” he muttered through clenched teeth. "I know it’s not good but I… I can’t just turn off these feelings like flipping a damn switch.”
Doctor Raynor nodded, a hint of sympathy in her expression.
“I understand it’s not something you can control easily, but that’s why you’re here.” she paused, allowing her words to sink in. ”...To learn how to handle them in a healthy way. The first step is to understand what’s real and what’s not.”
Bucky exhaled slowly, trying to compose himself after the doctor’s words.
“I know I’m just obsessed, or at least part of me is, but it feels so real, it feels like it’s the only thing that matters.” He raked his hand through his hair once again, frustration evident in his every movement.
The doctor leaned forward slightly, her voice gentle as she addressed his confession.
“What I’m trying to say is that it’s okay to have these feelings, but it’s not ok to act on them in a way that could hurt yourself or others.”
Bucky gritted his teeth, both his hands clenched into fists in his lap.
He understood she was right, at least rationally, but the knowledge alone did nothing to soothe the emotional turmoil within him.
“I know, I promised not to act on those… until…” he whispered, looking down for a moment.”…until I get better.”
Doctor Raynor observed him in silence, noticing the effort he was making to keep his emotions in check.
“That’s good…” she said quietly. ”...but it’s also important to remember you’re not alone in this. Others have faced what you’re going through and have overcome it.”
Bucky let out a bitter scoff, disbelief evident on his face as he looked up again.
“And how exactly am I supposed to do that? Just stop thinking and magically get over her?” he leaned back in his seat then, crossing his arms over his chest in a defensive manner.
The doctor smiled patiently at his reaction, undeterred by his defensive attitude.
“No, it’s not that simple, It’s a process that takes time and effort, and you’re only halfway there.” She said, pausing for just a moment ”…but to get to the root of the problem, have you asked yourself why you feel this strongly about this person?” she asked.
Bucky’s expression darkened at her question, his jaw clenching again.
“I… I don’t know…I mean, maybe...” he grumbled, avoiding her gaze once again. "She’s just not afraid of me, she doesn’t see me as some kind of monster. She makes me feel like I matter...”
At that, the doctor nodded, a hint of a smile appearing on her lips..
“So in a way, this person gives you a sense of normalcy? Something you lack in other aspects of your life,” she stated, more as a clarification than a question.”...and because of that, you can’t stop thinking about her?“
Bucky nodded, his voice low and rough as he spoke again.
“Yeah… yeah I think so. She doesn’t see me like everyone else does. And when I think about her… it feels like I can breathe again” he let out a humourless chuckle at his own words, his expression a bitter mix of frustration and longing.
“I know it’s stupid but I… it’s like a drug I can’t quit.”
The smile on the doctor’s face was now gentler, her eyes filled with both sympathy and understanding.
“It’s not stupid, James. Your feelings are valid, however, it doesn’t have to consume your entire life.” she paused, leaning back in her seat again and observing him thoughtfully before speaking again. ”...but allow me to ask you something, will you?”
Bucky let out a sigh at that, visibly tensing once again.
“Sure” he muttered, his voice sounding a bit more defensive. He was listening, but he couldn’t help the overwhelming need he felt deep in his chest.
Doctor Raynor nodded in response.
“Have you ever thought about why she doesn’t see you the same way everyone else does? Why she sees the real you and not the monster, as you said?” she asked, allowing him to fully understand her question. ”...What do you think the answer to that is?”
“I… I don’t know,” he answered after a moment, frustration lacing his voice. ”...maybe she’s just that different?” he paused, his expression darkening as a thought crossed his mind.
“Or maybe she’s just a goddamn stubborn idiot...” he grumbled, mostly to himself.
The doctor only smiled slightly at his muttered insult.
“Maybe she’s all of those things,” she replied calmly. ”...but what if there’s something else?”
She leaned forward, her eyes fixed on his.
“What if you’re the one seeing yourself as a monster, and not her? What if you’re the one putting a label on yourself first, and she’s just seeing through it?”
Bucky’s expression darkened at her words, his jaw clenching again.
“I am the Winter Soldier” he stated firmly, his voice laced with anger. ”...that’s who I was for decades. I killed people, I destroyed families, I ruined lives. How can someone see me as anything else?”
At that, Doctor Raynor sighed gently, her eyes never leaving his.
“That’s who you were, not who you are, we discussed that long ago...” she pointed out quietly.”...you’re not that person anymore, you’re James Buchanan Barnes..”
She paused, letting her words sink in before continuing.
“But you’re holding onto that part, letting it define you. Maybe she sees beyond that, beyond the label. Maybe she sees a person who’s trying to change, maybe she sees the real you.”
“I want to believe that..” he muttered, his voice low and filled with something between doubt and hope. ”...but how can I? How can I believe I'm worthy of that kind of… acceptance?”
Doctor Raynor smiled at that question, her expression conveying both understanding and empathy.
“It’s never about worthiness, James,” she responded gently but firmly. ”...you’re worthy just as you are. You don’t have to make up for your past deeds or actions”
She looked at him squarely in the eyes as she said that.
“The real question is, are you ready to accept that? To let her see the real you? The person behind the mask and the guilt?”
Bucky felt a lump rise in his throat as he listened to her words, his heart clenching in his chest.
“I want to..” he mumbled, his voice betraying his uncertainty.”...but if I screw up? What if I hurt her?”
Doctor Raynor nodded in understanding, her expression still patient and kind.
“That’s actually a good thing..” she admitted gently. ”... that means you care, that you’re willing to take a risk for this person.”
As Bucky almost scoffed, she continued.
“You’re not the same as you were before, you’ve grown, you’ve changed. You know yourself better now. That’s what you need to show her.”
He closed his eyes and let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.
“I don’t even know if she wants to see me or hear from me..” he said, his voice tinged with pain at the memory. ”...last time, well… I don’t think I left her with a good impression.”
He let out another humourless chuckle as he opened his eyes, his expression hardening.
“She probably thinks I’m a lunatic.”
The doctor chuckled gently, fully expecting a self-deprecating comment from him.
“I highly doubt that..” she reassured him, a hint of amusement in her tone. ”…and if she does, then she’s not the right person for you.”
She paused before adding,
“But you won’t know that until you talk to her.”
Bucky exhaled deeply, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration.
“I know, you’re right..” he said, his voice still bitter. ”...but it’s not that simple, I promised I’d wait…and..”
At that point, Dr. Raynor interrupted him, her gaze firm.
“You’re a man of honour, James, I respect that…but..” she stated, her voice still understanding. ”...sometimes you have to think of yourself too. Holding onto this promise while it’s eats you up inside isn’t healthy either.”
She paused for a moment before continuing.
“Maybe it’s time to have an open and honest conversation with her about how you’re feeling.”
At that suggestion, Bucky let out a bitter scoff, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You don’t have to keep living in the shadows. You deserve a chance at happiness, and if she’s the one who can give you that, then why not try?” the doctor added when she saw his reaction.
He exhaled shakily, closing his eyes for a moment, before looking up at the doctor again.
“What if I can’t be the person she deserves? Why the hell would she want a broken shell of a man like me?”
Doctor Raynor’s expression softened at that, her voice gentle now.
“Since when do people choose who to love based on logic?” she asked, a bemused smile on her face. ”...sometimes people fall for someone despite their flaws, just because they see something beyond them.”
Her expression turned serious once more.
“And you’re far from a broken shell of a man. You’ve been through hell and back. You’re a survivor, a fighter.”
Her words, along with the explanations she was giving him, echoed in his mind the more she talked.
Should he really try to call you again? Text you first, maybe? He didn’t know.
