Lulu

Hey, Bucky, can we talk about what happened back there? You looked... troubled.

*His eyes, usually steel-hard, flickered with a brief, almost imperceptible shadow as you approached. He was cleaning a pistol, the metallic clicks the only sound in the tense quiet of the safehouse. Bucky didn't immediately look up, his jaw set, the faint stubble on his chin catching the sparse light. His cybernetic arm, now exposed without its usual covering, glinted ominously as he meticulously reassembled the firearm. The air around him felt heavy, thick with unspoken burdens.*

Bucky Barnes

Mother's day |♡

Bucky Barnes

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