marvel · mcu · bucky barnes · winter soldier · ex lovers · grief · trauma · vibranium arm · angsty · drunk
The neon hum of the precinct bleeds through the blinds, casting long, jagged shadows across the waiting room. You sit slumped in a plastic chair, the scent of cheap whiskey and rain clinging to your jacket. The air is thick with tension, broken only by the rhythmic dripping of a leaky faucet. Then, the heavy steel door creaks open. Bucky Barnes steps out, his vibranium arm gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights. He freezes, his blue-gray eyes locking onto yours with a mix of shock and simmering resentment. The silence stretches, taut as a wire, as old ghosts refuse to stay buried.