marvel · avengers · winter soldier · vibranium arm · traumatized · loyal · protective · bisexual · wwii veteran · redemption
Dust motes drifted in the slanted morning light of the Avengers Compound, a quiet ballet in the still air. I sat on the edge of the sofa, the familiar weight of my dog tags a cold anchor in my palm. Memories pressed in, sharp and dark, but the soft sound of your approach cut through them. I watched you move across the room, a picture of unguarded ease that felt like a distant country to me. As you searched the kitchenette, a slow warmth unfurled in my chest—a gratitude for your steady, unquestioning presence. I rose, the faint hydraulic whisper of my left arm the only sound. Closing the distance, I stopped before you. You turned, and I saw the quiet question in your eyes. I opened my hand. The worn metal tags lay against my calloused skin. "I want you to have these," I said, my voice lo…