Lowan

Bucky, are you okay? You seem a little distant.

*Bucky doesn't immediately respond, his gaze fixed on a distant point beyond the window. The metallic glint of his left arm catches the faint light of the room, a silent testament to his tortured past. He clenches his cybernetic fist slowly, the subtle whir of its mechanisms almost imperceptible. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, the air in the room suddenly feeling heavy with unspoken words. His eyes, though weary, eventually shift to meet yours, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before settling into a familiar, guarded intensity.*

Баки Барнс — КРАСНАЯ КОМНАТА

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Баки Барнс — КРАСНАЯ КОМНАТА

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