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Unlocking your phone quickly, you open it in high hopes, only to see Sam’s name appear and your face falls. 

Sam: Bucky said you tried to call. Is it important?

You: No… just we had plans.

You confide, knowing Sam will understand.

Sam: Oh shit. Okay, want me to tell him to come home?

You: No. It’s fine.

Sighing, you toss your phone on the other end of the couch, throwing your head back in newfound anger. Asshole. He saw your calls and didn’t even pick up the damn phone. After a year of dating, you at least deserved that. 

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“Hey this is y/n, I can’t come to the phone right now cuz I’m out livin’ my life! Leave it at the beep.” He hears your all too familiar voicemail through the speaker. He had helped you come up with it, you hadn’t known what to put on it. He kicks himself, knowing you weren’t actually out living your life, just dodging his calls. Not that he blamed you- He deserved it and he knew it. Calling again, he’s not surprised when he hears your voicemail again.

“Hey… Um, listen, I know I was supposed to be at your place after the mission… I just wanted to unwind with the guys and- Shit. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think you would mind that much, I’ll be over in a bit to make it up to you, okay?” He leaves the message and ends the call before starting his car and driving towards your apartment, guilt heavy in his stomach.

You listen to his voicemail over and over, a strange mix of rage and sorrow weighing on your heart.

Tears roll slowly down your cheeks silently as you lay curled up in a defensive ball on your bed, trying to block out the unmistakable sound of Bucky begging you to open the front door; “Babe, please open the door,” He says, fist resting gently against the frame. “I’m sorry- really, really sorry. Please let me in and we can talk about it,” He sighs, resting his head against the door in defeat. He could break the lock and go in. You both know that. But he wouldn’t do that to you- All that would do is make you fear him and that’s the last thing he wants. He slides his back down the wall til he’s sitting on the floor next to your door, his elbows on his knees and his hands in his hair; Tears gathering in his lashes. He really messed up this time.

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The next day you drag yourself out of bed, trying to forget last night and all the tears you shed. After a shower and breakfast, you head out the door for a coffee run before work. You stop in your tracks when you see Bucky still sitting there, eyes red from lack of sleep and regret written all over his face. He jumps up when you walk out, keys in hand, the door closing behind you. “What are you doing here?” 

“I- I came to apologize,” he murmurs, looking in your eyes.

“I don’t want to hear it,” you bite, moving to step around him but stopping when he steps to block your path.

“Bucky, I’m going to be late for work,” you say coldly, glaring at him. “Move out of the way.”

“Please doll, just let me expla-”

Huffing, you roll your eyes. “I understand perfectly, James.” You watch as he flinches a little at the use of his first name. You only use it when your really mad or really happy, and it isn’t the latter right now. “You were too busy with your beer buddies to come see your girlfriend after being gone for three weeks, but what’s new? It’s been like this for months. I guess it was naive of me to expect something else this time.” You shoulder past him as he stares at you; dumbfounded. Tears gather in your eyes as you make your way to your car in the rain. Your almost there when you feel a large hand on your arm and hear your name being whispered. You turn around and look up into his stormy eyes. You always loved his eyes- They’re always so bright and big and- Now is not the time to be thinking about his stupidly gorgeous eyes.

“Please! You have to let me make this right,” he whispers, tears forming in his eyes as well, mixing with the raindrops rolling down his face and dampening is hair. 

“Bucky…” You sigh, pulling your arm out of his grasp gently. “I don’t think you can fix this. I can't keep being your second choice, not when you're my first." You climb into your car as he stares at you as you pull out of the parking lot. He sinks to the ground on his knees, not caring that his clothes are practically soaked, or that someone might think he looks crazy. None of that matters- because your gone. His girl. Gone. He can’t breathe. The pressure weighs heavy in lungs as all the air is pushed from them and his heart shatters. It’s all he can do to draw a ragged breathe between sobs.

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You manage to hold yourself together until you pull into the starbucks parking lot. And then you totally loose it; Tears and mascara mix together and run down your cheeks as you sob into your steering wheel. It feels like your heart is being torn out of your chest. Bucky was the best thing that ever happened to you… and deep down you had feared something like this would happen, but you didn’t think it actually would. You loved him- And now he was gone. 

You trek into Walmart, heading straight for the junk food isle, not caring that you look like an absolute mess. Grabbing some much needed chocolate, chips, cookies and other coping foods, you check out, starting to cry again when the cashier gives you a pitiful look on your way out. 

Stumbling into your apartment, you throw your bags on the kitchen counter before grabbing your desired snacks and tossing them on your bed. You pull on sweatpants and one of Bucky’s hoodies, sending an ache of longing through your chest. Even changing clothes feels like more effort than you could possibly muster but you somehow manage before crawling into bed and turning on reruns of Friends before you start crying again. After 2 bags of chocolate, a bag of Doritos, a burger and french fries you grabbed on the way home, you still feel like absolute shit. Maybe this is just how it will be- Unable to get over him, unable to move on. Eventually you fall asleep from exhaustion, tear stains and left-over makeup on your face and Bucky’s pillow clutched against your chest. 

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Bucky ambles into the bar, sliding onto a stool with sullen eyes, ordering a shot of vodka before mumbling “Keep em coming.” 

Throwing his head back, he grimaces as the bitter liquid burns its way down his throat. He knows he can’t get drunk but he’s willing to try. Anything to stop feeling like this.

The old barkeep leans on the bar behind him, looking at Bucky with an evaluating stare. 

“What was her name?” He questions gently after a moment of silence.

“Wha- How did you know?” Bucky looks up in surprise and pain, his forearms resting on the bar, holding another shot.

“Son, you can’t hide the look of love gone wrong.”

Tossing back another, Bucky looks in the shot glass like it holds all the answers before whispering your name, his voice breaking. “Did you ever love someone?” He asks brokenly.

The older man chuckles lightly at this. “I did, still do.” He holds up his left hand as proof.  “Do you wanna know the secret to love?” He asks, stepping closer.

“Why not, it’s not like I could lose anything else,” Bucky says dryly, taking yet another shot.

“Sometimes love doesn’t last and you have to let it go… but sometimes you have to fight for it. And it’s up to you to decide which you’re gonna do. So which is it?”

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Crackheads:

You smiled too, and blushed a little. “Well, thanks, Seb. You’re looking boy-next-door handsome today, if I do say so myself.”

“Shouldn’t I look like that everyday? I’m always me.”

“Yeah, but sometimes you’re boy-next-door handsome, sometimes you’re sleepyhead adorable, sometimes you’re runway sexy. Perks of your job, friend, you get all the labels for your looks.”

He chuckled and you could tell he was a little intimidated; he enjoyed what he did but never quite got used to being in the spotlight. He motioned to his car in your driveway. 

“Ready to go?”

You nodded, handing him your keys. “Do you mind putting those in your pocket so I don’t lose them?”

“Sure.” Sebastian deposited the keys in his front right pocket, then caught up to you down the front walk, hurrying to open your door for you before you could open it for yourself. He frowned a little. “Are you wearing my shirt?”

You winced a little through your smile. “Maybe? I snagged it last time I was over so I could wear it today. I’m sorry, I really like it and I can’t find it in my size.”

He laughed and shut the door before jogging around to the driver’s side and getting himself settled for the drive to the stadium. Before he pulled out of the driveway, he told you to keep the shirt. 

“Looks better on you anyway.”

Your blush returned and you wondered where all the compliments were coming from today. Sebastian was nothing if not encouraging and supportive as far as your friendship went, but something was different today. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, so you shrugged it off and immediately commandeered the radio to find some good tunes for the drive. 

“These seats are really amazing,” you breathed, carefully sitting down with a beer in one hand and a hot dog in the other. “I wish you would have at least let me pay for the beer and the food, though. You bought the tickets, you should let me get everything else. These can’t have been cheap seats.”

Sebastian put an arm around you and hugged you to his side, softly kissing your temple — not unusual for your affectionate friendship, but again, something was different about it today. 

“Just let me treat you, Y/N/N. I wanted to do this for you.”

You shrugged and took a good gulp of your beer before setting the cup in the holder and diving into your hotdog without any sort of grace. By the time the two teams lined up for the Star-Spangled Banner, you were ready for a second round. 

“I’ll go get them,” you offered after everyone was sitting again. 

Sebastian only waved you off and told you to sit back down. “You’re gonna miss the beginning of the game, you can’t go. Just relax and enjoy the game, I got you.”

He waited for the first pitch — the actual first pitch, not the one thrown by a celebrity — then got up and went to hunt down a couple more beers. Although you were mostly focused on the game, there was a part of your brain that was beginning to understand something more than a friendly outing was happening here — and, to be honest, you weren’t sure how you felt about that. 

Sebastian was a good friend. He was handsome, no doubt about that. He made you laugh, listened when you talked, and paid attention to the details. The baseball game was a perfect example of that. What wasn’t to love about that? Except that love, in that sense, had never crossed your mind when it came to Sebastian. While the game progressed, you thought back over your friendship with Sebastian. There were flirtations, but you had assumed that’s simply how things were between the two of you. 

“Y/N? You gonna take this beer or you want me to drink it?”

You had been so lost in thought, you hadn’t realized Sebastian had returned. You took the drink from him and downed half of it in one go. He eyed you suspiciously, but you gave him a smile and nudged him with your shoulder. Was that unintentionally encouraging him, if his thoughts were on the dating track? You mentally told yourself not to overthink and read into every little thing. If you were wrong, then your analyzation could ruin everything. 

Would dating Sebastian ruin everything, though?

Stop. It. You took a deep breath and listened to your mind. You were enjoying a baseball game with your good friend; it didn’t have to be more than that. And, if that’s what Sebastian was going for, you would cross that bridge when you came to it. 

The rest of the game was actually enjoyable once you chilled out and decided to just enjoy your time. You and Sebastian bantered back and forth as usual, cheered together when the team had some good hits and plays, and drank down a few more beers each. 

“Whew! I think it’s safe to say I’m buzzed,” you commented as the two of you filed out of the stadium with the other game-goers. “Do you wanna grab a bite to eat or something? I’ll treat, if you’ll let me.”

Sebastian waved you off. “Today is all on me, Y/N/N. But, yes, let’s go get some food. That hot dog didn’t fill me up at all. The beers didn’t do a bad job, but I need real sustenance.”

You laughed and nodded. “Yes, real sustenance would be good. Where do you wanna go?”

“Um …” 

While he was thinking it over, the two of you fell into step with each other. The initial mingling of your hands was accidental, the effect of your proximity to each other — but then Sebastian took a chance and held your hand. The move was no friendly gesture to get you to move a little faster; it was deliberate, purposeful hand-holding. 

You stopped in your tracks, which slowed Sebastian down. Your expression must have read concern or question because he let go of your hand and shoved his hands in his pockets. He tried a couple times to get words out, but in the end he just shrugged. 

“Is this a date?” you asked quietly. “Be honest.”

He let out a breath. “I mean, I guess I was kind of hoping we could call it that. Doesn’t help if I’m not honest though, huh?”

Now you shrugged. “I could pick up some signals.”

“Yeah. Look, Y/N, I … care about you. Maybe I always have, maybe it’s new but because I know you so well, I feel, I don’t know, further into it. Or something. I don’t expect that you would return that feeling and this isn’t because of anything specific I picked up on that you were doing, okay? I just thought, maybe, we could do this one thing together, kind of like a date, see how we felt about it, and go from there.”

Your bottom lip was going to be sore later if you didn’t stop chewing on it. Sebastian needed a reply from you, but you had to take pause. You pictured a possible future of dating him: sweet text messages, romantic dates, late-night cuddling. You pictured fights and arguments and misunderstandings, but no matter the what-if’s, you could only picture the two of you working it out. When your mind conjured up an image of you and Sebastian within centimeters of each other, lips a hairsbreadth apart, stopped your thoughts and came back to the present. 

Reaching out for Sebastian’s hand again, you waited for his fingers to interlace with yours before you stepped right up to him. You were almost flush against him, and he was looking down at you, waiting for your next move. With only a sliver of hesitation in your bones, you pushed up on tiptoe and softly but surely pressed your lips to his. The kiss was meant to be brief, but once you were in it, butterflies erupted in your stomach. Kissing Sebastian was suddenly something you never wanted to stop doing, though you had barely even thought about kissing him before this moment. 

His hand came up to cradle your face, his long fingers slightly working their way into your hair. He didn’t press to deepen the kiss, only seemed to be enjoying it for as long as you would let it go on. 

Back on flat feet, you took a moment to breathe and process before meeting his eyes again. 

“Okay, but if we fight or break up or something, do you promise to still take me to Opening Day every year for the rest of our lives?”

Sebastian chuckled and squeezed your hand. “Yeah, sweetheart. I promise.”

Prompts:

“That candle smells like Fireball.” “Is non-alcoholics like to call it cinnamon, Becky.” “..who the hell is Becky?!”

“I’m only here to establish an alibi.”

“You hurt?” “No, I normally spurt blood from my rib cage. Thanks for asking.” @nekoannie-chan w/ Brock

“Can you hit him with your knife?” “I believe the technical term is ‘stab’.” @captainscarletwanda w/ Loki

“Quit smirking at me, I’m being serious!”

"So...what do we do now?” @fandomsandxfiles​ w/ Steve

“Did you bring us here to die?” “Obviously.” “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.” @chaoticpete w/ Peter Parker

“I regret nothing.” “Because you don’t remember what you’re supposed to regret.”

“I want you to remember: you deserve this.” @thefallenbibliophilequote w/ Bucky

“You’re-you’re crushing my spleen.” “You don’t even know where you spleen is.” @fandomsandxfiles w/ Bucky

 “That’s definitely not true.” “Of course it is. I read it on Wikipedia.”

“That wasn’t meant to be a joke.”

“Can we just...get along?”

“You know I have feelings for you.” “Yeah, I know.” @official-and-unstable-satan w/ Winter Soldier

“I want to take a shower so you should probably join me.” “I’m down with saving water.” @shortpromptlongkiss w/ Buck Buck & @angrythingstarlight

“Bite me.” “Eat me.” @saiyanprincessswanie w/ Bucky

“Kiss my ass.” “With pleasure.”

“Is it still murder if I give them a heads up?” “That’s called a threat.” “Damn.” @stuckonjbbarnes w/ Bucky

“Please! You have to let me make this right.” @kitkatd7 w/ Bucky

“How did that feel?” @buckybarney w/ Steve

“Are you going to cry now?” @mr-skyline-r34​ w/ Noel!Bucky AU

“That hurt you son of a bitch...”

“Can you just fuck off already?!”

“Um, can I help you? Why are you staring at me?”

“I wish I’d never met you.” “No...you don’t mean that.”

“One last time?”

“You’re insane!”

“Where is here exactly?”

“I’m too upset for cookies...what kind?” @theash0 w/ Sam, Buck and Clint

“You call it a problem. I call it a solution.”

“What we have is not love. Not romantic love anyways.” @wintersoldierissucharide​ w/ Bucky

“You’re early.”

“You did what now?” @lostinthoughtsandfeelings w/ Bucky

“Just pretend to be my date.” @just-marvel-fanfics​ w/ Buck Buck

“Are you wearing my shirt?” @arrowsandmixtapes w/ Seb

“Can we just stay in bed?”

“Fuck, you’re hot.”

“Trust me one this.”

“I know you still love me.” @constantaking w/ Sebastian

“Don’t do this here.”

You got yourself a ponytail and went out to head to the Triskelion, you didn't want to be late and ruin the mission before it started.  

As soon as you arrived immediately you headed to the dressing rooms to take everything you were going to need on the mission as well as the clothes you would wear to go unnoticed, a few minutes later you set off for the track where the plane they would leave, Brock appeared soon by your side.

"Are you ready?” He asked.  

"Always," you answered.

“Already have everything you need?”  

"Sure, you know I always pay attention to every detail," you said.  

You boarded the plane, the road seemed calm, but you prefer not to trust or let your guard down, at any time someone could attack you or have some kind of untough situation.

"Y/N, you know, I've been thinking," Brock started saying after being silent for a while.  

"About what?” You asked by looking at him.  

"About us... I like you…”

"I like you Rumlow too, do you want us to be in a relationship?” You interrupted him.  

"I had a romantic speech prepared for this occasion, but yes, I like the idea," he replied.  

"I’m sorry?” You said confused.

"It's all right, just... the hell... what's going on?”  

Unexpectedly the plane began to fail, so you had to make an emergency landing, Brock tried to fix it without success, tried to ask for help, but told him that you had to engineer them to continue the mission, both sighed frustrated, there were not many options apparently, you had not been ordered to return or postpone the mission, so you had to continue.

"I guess we're going to have to walk or steal a vehicle," you said.  

"Walking sounds good, vehicles hardly pass.”  

After a few hours, you finally arrived at the place, although so that the road wasn't boring you were joking and planning future trips, you set in motion the rest of the plan, while you entertained the guards, Brock was in charge of getting the object, as soon as he got it, he informed you by the communicator.  

You both met outside the place, even though you had the feeling that it had been too easy that something else hadn't happened.

"Have you got it, right?“ You asked to make sure.

"Yes, although it's too simple, this is all too weird, I'm pretty sure they forgot to tell us a detail," Brock replied.  

"I think the same thing, no previous mission had been so easy," you supported.  

"Stop them!” Someone yelled behind you.  

Brock and you saw each other, maybe you should have rushed instead of talking, and you started running, in theory, that shouldn't have happened... if the plane hadn't broken down.  

They were going after you, in a short time they would surely catch up with you, they turned in a corner when you saw a house that on the outside seemed abandoned, and you beckoned them in to come in, maybe they could throw off their pursuers.

You came in, closed the door and dropped near the entrance, it looked as if that house had been abandoning for years, waited a few seconds hoping they wouldn't have followed them, before peeking out the window.  

“Please tell me you're bringing with you the shit they asked of us, otherwise we're in serious trouble,” you said, trying to catch your breath.  

"Of course I have it with me, I just need a few minutes to be able to get on with this damn mission," Brock replied.  

After about five minutes, you peeked out trying not to draw attention to the windows; was when you saw that the street that was once empty, now seemed busier.  

"This isn't good," you said.

"I think we'll need to be extracted, but if we're still here, they'll find us," Brock said.  

"We can go upstairs and hide there, if we go out we'll be in trouble because they're probably all over this area," you proposed.

If you waited until nightfall, there was a high chance that they were no longer looking for you in that area believing you had gone further.  

"Let’s go," Brock agreed.

You went up the stairs carefully, you were attentive as you did not know exactly that you could be in that place, you looked up and saw an irregularity in the ceiling, your eyes lit up, there you could be safe.  

"Brock," you called him in a whisper.  

"What?” He asked, turning to you.

"I think there's an attic here, we can hide there," you replied by pointing out what you've seen.

"That's why I love going on missions with you, you're very smart.”  

You started looking for something that would help you open the entrance to the attic, you went up, after a while you took some cereal bars out of your bag, you were already hungry, you offered one to Brock and he accepted it, you were going to wait there until nightfall without peeking out or doing something that would give away your presence there.

When the sun went down, you carefully peeked out the small attic window, there was no one on the street.  

"I think we can go down now," you reported.

Brock began to come down when the ladder broke, he fell on top of one of the furniture in that hallway.  

"Brock!” You exclaimed when you heard the noise.  

You looked up and saw him lying down, he seemed sore.

“You hurt?”

“No, I normally spurt blood from my rib cage. Thanks for asking”.

You bit your lip, you hadn't contemplated that possibility, you carefully swayed and jumped down, you approached it when you saw that it was still lying, for a moment you thought I was joking.  

"Let me check you," you asked.

He took his arm off the side, he didn't lie, there were pieces of glass there, and they were probably from the vase that was on top of the furniture.

“Okay…this looks bad”.

"Thank you for reporting it, I hadn't even realized for the pain I feel right now," he replied ironically.

You ignored his comment, carefully removed the pieces you could, you broke your shirt a little to try to stop the bleeding.  

"I'm going to ask for us to be extracted, it's dangerous for us to go out like this.”  

"We can go, I'm fine.”  

"Brock, you're bleeding bad, if we leave you'll pass out or you won't even be able to walk through the pain.”

He sighed frustrated, he could not tell if the mission had been successful or not, the worst, he felt like a fool in front of you because of the senseless accident he had just had.

In the hospital he was healed by wounds, after a while they let you in to see him.  

"I think it'll be marked," he complained.

"Vain, but you'll look tougher," you said, laughing.  

"So Saturday's date still stands?”

"It depends on the directions the doctor gives you.

"No exercise of any kind for a month...”

Varias veces habían tenido citas, pero aún no eran anda oficialmente; aunque definitivamente lo que te ponía nerviosa era la misión, solo tú y él, nadie más iba a poder ayudarlos; la presión era demasiada, un movimiento en falso y todo podría salir mal.

Te hiciste una coleta y saliste para dirigirte al Triskelion, no querías llegar tarde y arruinar la misión antes de que empezara.

En cuanto llegaste de inmediato te dirigiste a los vestidores para tomar todo lo que ibas a necesitar en la misión así como la ropa que vestirías para pasar desapercibida, unos minutos después saliste rumbo la pista donde se encontraba la nave en el que se irían, Brock apareció al poco tiempo a tu lado.

— ¿Lista? —preguntó.

—Siempre —respondiste.

— ¿Ya tienes todo lo que necesitas?

—Claro, sabes que siempre pongo atención a todos los detalles —dijiste.

Abordaron la nave, el camino parecía tranquilo, pero prefieren no confiarse ni bajar la guardia, en cualquier momento alguien podría atacarlos o tener algún tipo de situación no contemplada.

—T/N, sabes, he estado pensando —comenzó a decir Brock después de haber estado en silencio durante un rato.

— ¿En qué has pensado? —preguntaste mirándolo.

—En nosotros…realmente me gustas…

—También me gustas Rumlow, ¿quieres que seamos novios? —lo interrumpiste.

—Tenía un discurso romántico preparado para esta ocasión, pero sí, me agrada la idea —contestó.

— ¿Lo siento? —dijiste confundida.

—Está bien, sólo…diablos… ¿qué pasa?

Inesperadamente la nave comenzó a fallar, por lo que tuvieron que realizar un aterrizaje de emergencia, Brock intentó arreglarlo sin éxito, intentó pedir ayuda, pero básicamente le dijeron que tenían que ingeniárselas para continuar con la misión, ambos suspiraron frustrados, no había muchas opciones al parecer, tampoco les habían dado la orden de regresar o posponer la misión, así que debían de continuar.

—Supongo que tendremos que caminar o robar un vehículo —dijiste.

—Caminar suena bien, casi no pasan vehículos.

Después de unas horas finalmente llegaron al lugar, aunque para que el camino no fuera aburrido iban bromeando y planeando viajes futuros, pusieron en marcha el resto del plan, mientras tú entretenías a los guardias, Brock se encargaba de obtener el objeto, en cuanto lo logró te avisó por el comunicador.

Ambos se reencontraron afuera del lugar, aunque tenías la sensación de que había sido demasiado fácil como para que algo más no hubiese ocurrido.

— ¿Ya lo tienes? —preguntaste para asegurarte.

—Sí, aunque es demasiado sencillo, todo esto es demasiado raro, estoy casi seguro que olvidaron decirnos algún detalle —respondió Brock.

—Pienso lo mismo, ninguna misión anterior había sido tan fácil —apoyaste.

— ¡Deténganlos! —alguien gritó atrás de ustedes.

Brock y tú se vieron, quizás deberían de haberse apurado en vez de conversar, comenzaron a correr, en teoría eso no debería de haber pasado…si la nave no se hubiese descompuesto.

Iban atrás de ustedes, en poco tiempo seguramente los alcanzarían, doblaron en una esquina, cuando viste una casa que por fuera parecía abandonada, le hiciste señas para que entraran, quizás así podrían despistar a sus perseguidores.

Entraron, cerraron la puerta y se dejaron caer cerca de la entrada, parecía como si esa casa llevara años abandonaba, esperaron unos segundos con la esperanza de que no los hubieran seguido, antes de asomarse por la ventana.

—Por favor dime que traes contigo la maldita porquería que nos pidieron, sino estamos en serios problemas —dijiste tratando de recuperar el aliento.

—Claro que lo tengo conmigo, sólo necesito unos minutos para poder seguir con esta maldita misión —respondió Brock.

Después de aproximadamente cinco minutos, se asomaron tratando de no llamar la atención por las ventanas; fue cuando vieron que la calle que antes estaba vacía, ahora parecía más transitada.

—Esto no es bueno —comentaste entre dientes.

—Creo que necesitaremos que nos extraigan, pero si seguimos aquí nos encontrarán —dijo Brock.

—Podemos ir a la planta alta y escondernos ahí, si salimos estaremos en problemas porque seguramente están por toda esta zona —propusiste.

Si esperaban hasta el anochecer, había altas posibilidades de que ya no estuvieran buscándolos en esa zona creyendo que habían ido más lejos.

—Vamos —aceptó Brock.

Subieron con cuidado, iban atentos ya que no sabían exactamente que podían encontrarse en ese lugar, alzaste la vista y viste una irregularidad en el techo, tus ojos se iluminaron, ahí podrían estar a salvo.

—Brock —lo llamaste en un susurro.

— ¿Qué? —preguntó volteando hacia ti.

—Creo que hay un ático aquí, podemos escondernos ahí —respondiste señalando lo que habías visto.

—Por eso me encanta ir a misiones contigo, eres muy inteligente.

Comenzaron a buscar algo que les ayudara a abrir la entrada al ático, subieron, después de un rato sacaste unas barritas de cereal de tu bolso, ya tenías hambre, le ofreciste una a Brock y él la aceptó, iban a esperar ahí hasta el anochecer sin asomarse o hacer algo que delatara su presencia ahí.

Cuando el sol se ocultó, con cuidado se asomaron por la pequeña ventana del ático, no había nadie en la calle.

—Creo que ya podemos bajar —informaste.

Brock comenzó a bajar cuando la escalera se rompió, él cayó encima de uno de los muebles que había en ese pasillo.

— ¡Brock! —exclamaste al escuchar el ruido.

Te asomaste y lo viste tirado, parecía adolorido.

— ¿Estás herido?

—No, normalmente sale sangre de mi costado. Gracias por preguntar.

Te mordiste el labio, no habían contemplado esa posibilidad, con cuidado te balanceaste y brincaste para bajar, te acercaste a él al ver que seguía tirado, por un momento creiste que estaba bromeando.

—Déjame revisarte —pediste.

Quitó su brazo del costado, no mintió, había pedazos de vidrio ahí, probablemente eran del florero que estaba en la parte superior del mueble.

—Bueno...esto luce mal.

—Gracias por informarlo, no me había dado cuenta ni siquiera por el dolor que siento en este momento —respondió con ironía.

Ignoraste su comentario, con cuidado quitaste los trozos que pudiste, rompiste un poco tu playera para tratar de detener el sangrado.

—Voy a pedir que nos extraigan, es peligroso que salgamos así.

—Podemos irnos, estoy bien.

—Brock, realmente estás sangrando, si nos vamos te desmayaras o ni siquiera podrás caminar por el dolor.

Él suspiró frustrado, no podía decir si la misión había sido exitosa o no, lo peor, se sentía como un estúpido frente a ti por el accidente sin sentido que acababa de tener.

En el hospital le curaron las heridas, después de un rato te dejaron entrar a verlo.

—Creo que quedará marca —se quejó.

—Vanidoso, pero así te parecerás más rudo —comentaste riendo.

—Entonces, ¿la cita del sábado sigue en pie?

—Depende de las indicaciones que te dé el doctor.

—Nada de ejercicio de ningún tipo por un mes…