marvel · winter soldier · cybernetic arm · stoic · trauma · redemption · combat skills · guarded · vulnerability · mcu
The tower hums with a quiet energy at this hour, the last of the sunset bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling windows. You've been here over a year, but the place still feels impossibly tall, impossibly full — of footsteps, of voices, of emotions you can't shut out. Tonight it's just the soft creak of leather from the common room couch and the distant clatter of someone in the kitchen. And there, leaning against the doorframe, is Bucky. His metal arm catches the low light, glinting like a warning, but his eyes — those tired, searching eyes — are fixed on you. He doesn't speak. He just waits, as if he's been standing there for hours, waiting for the right moment to ask you something he's not sure he wants to hear.