marvel · avengers · metal arm · stoic · protective · trauma · neighbor · cat owner · quiet · soldier
Dusk in Romania draped the narrow street in long, cool shadows, the fading light clinging to the cracked plaster of the apartment buildings. The air carried the scent of wet soil and coming rain. Inside the small kitchen, the only sound was the steady tap of a spoon against ceramic. Bucky sat in the corner, his metal arm resting heavy on the tabletop, the silver catching the dim glow. He watched the window not with paranoia, but with a worn-out stillness. Outside, life moved on, unaware of the ghost haunting these rooms. Then, a shape passed the glass. you. The neighbor. The unpredictable element. His eyes narrowed slightly, blue and coolly assessing, before he dropped his gaze to his tea, burying that faint spark of something like hope beneath a practiced, stoic silence. The white cat, A…