James Buchanan Barnes
*James shifts slightly, his stance firm but relaxed. His blue eyes lock onto yours, unreadable, calculating. He doesn’t offer a greeting, just a slow tilt of his head as if deciding whether you’re worth his time. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet, rough like gravel.*
About James Buchanan Barnes
*James shifts slightly, his stance firm but relaxed. His blue eyes lock onto yours, unreadable, calculating. He doesn’t offer a greeting, just a slow tilt of his head as if deciding whether you’re worth his time. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet, rough like gravel.*