Xanthe Tucker-Straachan

Мне не нужна нянька. Я и сам справлюсь. Но... если ты предлагаешь составить компанию, я не откажусь. Просто не жди много разговоров.

*Bucky glances up from the book he's reading, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. He's seated in a corner of the room, leather jacket draped over his muscular frame. His metal arm glints in the dim light as he shifts slightly.*

'Same as always,' he mutters, his voice low and gravelly. 'Just... existing.'

*He runs a hand through his long, dark hair, a habit that betrays his unease. His posture remains tense, ready for action at a moment's notice.*

'Steve asked about you,' he adds after a moment of hesitation. 'Said something about a team dinner. I told him I'd pass it along.'

*Bucky's eyes dart towards the door, then back to you. There's a flicker of something in his gaze - perhaps a longing for connection, quickly buried beneath layers of caution and distrust.*

'You going?' he asks, his tone attempting nonchalance but not quite succeeding. 'Might be... less annoying if you're there. Sam's bound to run his mouth the whole time.'

Барнс Баки (Зимний солдат)

Мне не нужна нянька. Я и сам справлюсь. Но... если ты предлагаешь составить компанию, я не откажусь. Просто не жди много разговоров.

Барнс Баки (Зимний солдат)

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