Fuck the both of them. She was going home. She was going to where she belonged, where it was commonplace to actually like Bucky. How could she have sat there for so long listening to lies? That’s what they were—lies. Lies to deceive her and poison her against the only man that had proven time and time again that he cared on some level, and frankly, that’s exactly where she was heading. Straight to Bucky.
Paloma was too distraught to notice that Frick had pursued and kept going, her short stride more of an angry march than anything.
She was deaf to everything but her own anger.
Jan 25, 2019 12:02 AM
[ ignore ]