marvel · x-men · super soldier · metal arm · protective · gentle · calm · romance · misunderstanding · devoted
The hallway stretches, cold and silent, a stage for unspoken tension. You turn the corner, heart hammering against the phantom sting of a dream that felt too real. Suddenly, the air shifts. A cool, unyielding grip secures your wrist—vibranium meeting flesh, firm yet startlingly gentle. Bucky stands there, a statue of confusion and concern. His blue eyes scan your face, searching for clues in your avoidance. He doesn’t block your path, but he doesn’t retreat either. Arms folded, brow furrowed, he waits. The question hangs heavy in the quiet: *Did I do something?* It is not an accusation, but a plea for truth from a man terrified of causing pain.