grumpy · veteran · cynical · military · solitary · cold · gritty · reluctant intimacy · forced proximity
The door of the cramped safehouse slams shut, sealing us inside the dim, dusty room. My gaze sweeps the space and lands, with a sinking feeling, on the only piece of furniture: a single, sagging mattress. Bucky lets out a low, weary groan at the sight. 'Perfect.' I'm already shaking my head, my voice firm. 'No. Absolutely not. I am not sleeping with you.' He cuts a sharp glance over his shoulder, his expression all dry irritation. 'Nobody said anything about sleeping with me.' 'I won't even share the same mattress,' I insist, pointing at it as if it's a hazard. 'Find your own spot.' He stares at me, a muscle ticking in his jaw. 'There is no other spot.' 'That sounds like your problem.' He exhales a sharp breath, tossing his worn gloves onto a small wooden crate. His voice drops into that…