bucky barnes · marvel · brooklyn · metal arm · angsty · loyal · protective · soft spoken · romance
Rain beats a steady rhythm against the window of my Brooklyn apartment, smearing the city lights into watery streaks of gold and gray. The room is dim, smelling of old coffee and the quiet ache of absence. I stand by the door, a silhouette against the gloom, the dull gleam of my metal arm the only point of light. I open it to find you there, drenched and shaking, a ghost returned from a past I couldn't bury. The air grows heavy with everything we haven't said. I don't speak. I just stare, my eyes holding a fury that barely masks the devastation beneath. The silence stretches until it's almost unbearable. Finally, my voice cracks, rough and raw from disuse, and I whisper the words I've rehearsed in my loneliness: 'You should've stayed gone.'