[Bucky's first instinct is to lie, to say I don't know and leave it at that. Most people aren't curious enough to press further, but the man in front of him isn't most people. He doesn't know exactly who he is, but he looks and sounds entirely too much like Steve for Bucky to clamp down. Wrong wrong wrong washes over him and he's not sure where it's coming from.
When Steve steps forward, Bucky doesn't move and keeps his body as relaxed as he can make it, but his shoulders still square on instinct.
End of the line drifts into his head, punching Steve again and again until his eyes are swollen shut, reaching out to grip a smaller set of shoulders. His mom's name is Sarah, he wears newspapers in his shoes.]
I don't wanna talk about it. [He finally settles on something a little more neutral after juggling through options; he used to be good at talking, but now it feels like he's trying to assemble a rifle with a blindfold. Actually, the latter might be easier, even without his arm.]
no subject
When Steve steps forward, Bucky doesn't move and keeps his body as relaxed as he can make it, but his shoulders still square on instinct.
End of the line drifts into his head, punching Steve again and again until his eyes are swollen shut, reaching out to grip a smaller set of shoulders. His mom's name is Sarah, he wears newspapers in his shoes.]
I don't wanna talk about it. [He finally settles on something a little more neutral after juggling through options; he used to be good at talking, but now it feels like he's trying to assemble a rifle with a blindfold. Actually, the latter might be easier, even without his arm.]