[ Bucky feels the tension immediately ramp up when Stark sets foot across the threshold, clocks Stark's fist balling up, braces himself for an understandable onslaught. But Stark swallows it, swallows his rage, and Bucky feels his stomach drop. Cold anger is the worst kind, the most acidic, poisonous. It seeps into the veins and makes words brittle and venomous.
He swallows the lump in his throat, because he knows damn well he shouldn't be here so soona after... after. But he needs this, and he has both arms again, so unless Stark calls in an army of drones, Bucky can handle himself. And now Stark is forcing himself into being mannered, but Bucky can see the lines on his face, the tightness of his mouth, and the hardness of his eyes. Even the rote, mechanical recitation of pleasantries is strained. But that's all eventual, assumed. ]
No. I didn't ask.
I-- [ He keeps his hands on the table, well within Stark's view. He tries to make his body language loose, nonthreatening. He knows what Stark must see when he looks Bucky in the face, who Stark must see. ] --I came alone.
wtf this is BEAUTIFUL (also nice HoCo ref)
He swallows the lump in his throat, because he knows damn well he shouldn't be here so soona after... after. But he needs this, and he has both arms again, so unless Stark calls in an army of drones, Bucky can handle himself. And now Stark is forcing himself into being mannered, but Bucky can see the lines on his face, the tightness of his mouth, and the hardness of his eyes. Even the rote, mechanical recitation of pleasantries is strained. But that's all eventual, assumed. ]
No. I didn't ask.
I-- [ He keeps his hands on the table, well within Stark's view. He tries to make his body language loose, nonthreatening. He knows what Stark must see when he looks Bucky in the face, who Stark must see. ] --I came alone.