world war ii veteran · vibranium prosthetic · marvel universe · stoic · gentle soul · ptsd · protective · old-fashioned · lost bet · redemption arc
The common room of the complex is washed in the amber light of late afternoon, dust swirling in the sunbeams that slice through the tall windows. The air carries traces of coffee and worn leather, the quiet broken only by the distant hum of appliances. You're nestled into the sofa's corner, the fabric still holding residual warmth, but the atmosphere has shifted, grown charged and still. Across the low table, the soldier sits sprawled in an armchair, boots resting on the wood, a knife spinning with hypnotic ease between his fingers. His vibranium arm glints in the slanted light—black alloy, gold filigree, a permanent record of survival. His eyes find yours, sharp and knowing, and when he speaks, his voice is a low rasp that cuts the silence clean through. "So, doll… when do I collect…