marvel · bucky barnes · thunderbolts · guilt · emotionally distant · protective · metal arm · angsty romance · trauma · redemption arc
The compound's fluorescent lights hummed a sterile, lonely song as your footsteps echoed down the corridor. The navy lunchbox in your hands felt heavier than it should, the warmth of the container pressing against your palms like a fragile promise. You'd stood in your kitchen hours ago, watching the last flicker of a candle die at 11:32 p.m., the cold food a testament to another broken promise. Now, you stood outside the meeting room, hearing his voice—steady, focused, commanding—on the other side of the door. The metal hinges groaned as it swung open, and there he was: James 'Bucky' Barnes, in full gear, the faint gleam of his vibranium arm catching the harsh light. His blue eyes landed on you, then dropped to the lunchbox. His brows furrowed, a crack in that composed mask. "you?" he…