#artficlly

“I guess I could say the same,” You murmured, trying to keep your tone neutral. You could barely make out the outline of him in the dark, until he stepped towards you. 

You shift your weight, eyes flicking to the far end of the warehouse where your team is sweeping the site. You should be moving. Completing your mission objectives. Getting the hell out of there.

But instead, you were frozen in place. 

With your eyes locked on Bucky Barnes.

He took one step closer. 

Two steps. 

Three steps. 

And suddenly he was in front of you. Breathing your air. The look on his face is one of betrayal, almost like you were a stranger. Almost like you were the kind of threat he was trained to eliminate. 

“You chose him,” He whispered, “Over me.” 

“He’s my brother, Bucky,” You breathed. He was silent for a moment, jaw clenched like he was biting back something sharp. 

“And I was the love of your life,” he said. His voice cracked, just barely, on the last word. 

You looked away, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Your heart ached. You knew there was nothing you could say to make him understand your decision to join Sam’s team. 

He took another step toward you. You inhaled sharply, breath catching in your throat.

“I should hate you,” He said, quieter now. You let out a shaky breath,

“I wish you did,” You whispered. His hand lifted, hovering near your face. Fingers twitching like he wanted to cup your cheek the way he used to.

Like he still remembered what you could never forget.

The way he’d pull you in close, kissing you until your head spun. Like every breath was a promise. Like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

And then you did.

Your heart ached desperately in your chest. You should have stepped back. But you didn’t.

He leaned in, just barely.

Your lips were inches apart and you could feel his breath on your skin, warm and familiar. Your chest rose and fell with the weight of everything unspoken. 

“We’re on opposite sides now,” you said, voice barely audible. 

“That doesn’t mean I stopped loving you,” he whispered back. 

His eyes searched yours. And without warning, his hand came to your jaw, gentle and reverent, thumb running over your cheek like it belonged there. Like you still belonged to him.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling. For a moment, you let yourself feel it. The familiarity of his touch.

The spell was broken when you heard his comm crackle in his ear.

“Barnes. We got what we came for. Time to move.” 

He pulled back like nothing had happened—his jaw tightening, his face hardening into an unreadable expression.

He took one step back. And then another. 

His voice came low, “Don’t follow me out.”

You swallowed hard, “I won’t.”

He hesitated, just for a moment, before he disappeared into the shadows.

And you stood there in the dark, pretending it didn’t break you to let him go. Wishing that you’d told him the truth.

But it was too late. 

And the worst part?

He never knew you left just to keep him safe.