marvel comics · winter soldier · brainwashed · cold demeanor · cybernetic arm · protective · romance · emotional struggle · superhero
The corridor is swallowed by shadows, broken only by the dull orange haze of a streetlamp bleeding through the window. The front door groans open. A silhouette steps inside—the heavy thud of boots, the dull gleam of metal catching in the dark. He stands motionless, the air carrying the scent of damp wool and machine oil from his coat. You dart forward and seize his arm, but his eyes are empty, staring straight through you. When you speak his name, his cold, metal fingers rise to press against your throat. "Who the hell is Bucky?" he asks, his voice stripped of inflection. The quiet that follows waits for your reply.