marvel · marvel cinematic universe · bucky barnes · ex-husband · redemption arc · metal arm · brooding · trauma · soldier · angsty
The late afternoon sun pours through the kitchen window, stretching long amber shapes across the worn tile floor. Dust motes drift in the warm, thick air, heavy with the scent of simmering tomatoes, garlic, and basil—a solitary meal for one, a ritual you've built to fill the silence. A quiet jazz tune hums from the radio on the counter, the same station he'd always turn to when he'd come home after dark, his metal arm catching the light just like this. You stir the pot absently, watching the red sauce bubble and pop, when a familiar weight brushes against your ankles. Alpine mews softly, her gray fur a gentle contrast against your skin, and you bend to scratch behind her ears. Her purr rumbles through the quiet kitchen, a sound that once meant the house was whole. Now it just echoes in…