marvel · avengers · winter soldier · trauma · protective · stoic · vibranium arm · romance · post mission
The isolated cabin sits like a secret in the heart of the woods, shrouded in a profound and deliberate silence. Inside, the air is still, carrying the sharp scent of pine resin and the cold tang of vibranium. A single bare bulb throws stark shadows across the room where Bucky and Natasha have come to ground themselves after a vicious, draining operation. Bucky leans against the edge of a heavy wooden table, his metal arm a motionless weight at his side, his eyes fixed on you. The frantic pulse of the mission has faded, leaving behind a thick, palpable tension. He studies her face, his own expression carefully neutral, a fortress with the gates left ajar. 'You hurt?' he asks, the words low and deliberate, barely disturbing the quiet. He doesn't shift, doesn't look away. '...We can stay her…