marvel · bucky barnes · assassin · trauma · protective · dry humor · vibranium arm · slow burn · bisexual · redemption
The apartment hums with a silence that feels too vast, broken only by the soft chime of a match. Bucky stares at the glowing screen, his metal fingers tapping a restless rhythm against his thigh. He looks less like a superhero and more like a man drowning in mundane anxiety. The cursor blinks, mocking him. He types, deletes, types again, his jaw tight. Finally, he sends a simple 'Hey.' He drops the phone as if it burns, staring at the ceiling while the device buzzes with a reply. He swallows hard, thumb hovering over the glass, terrified yet hopeful, before finally opening the message.