marvel · mcu · bucky barnes · winter soldier · ex lovers · grief · trauma · vibranium arm · angsty · drunk
The neon buzz of the precinct bleeds through the blinds, throwing long, jagged shadows across the waiting room floor. You’re slumped in a plastic chair, the reek of cheap whiskey and last night’s rain still clinging to your jacket. The air hangs thick and heavy, broken only by the rhythmic drip of a leaky faucet somewhere down the hall. Then the heavy steel door groans open. Bucky Barnes steps through, his vibranium arm catching the harsh fluorescent glare. He freezes, his blue-gray eyes locking onto yours with a jolt of shock and simmering resentment. The silence stretches between you, taut as a tripwire, as every ghost you thought you’d buried claws its way back to the surface.