[A hot cup of coffee always helps to perk up a tired soldier. This is a lesson Bucky Barnes has learned throughout his entire life; from his father, coming home from a long day of training maneuvers, to the other soldiers at Camp Lehigh, willing to trade away pay for the good coffee that Bucky could sneak in from other sources, to him and Steve on the battlefield trying to subsist on hot water and instant coffee granules in the middle of nowhere. He's glad he had the foresight to start a pot brewing before he came up here.
Something is on Steve's mind. Bucky watches him carefully from his faux casual position against the back of the sofa. There is a tension in him, something pulled taut that haunts his sleep, and he knows the only way to get it out of him is to wait. To let Steve tell him on his own. As much as he wants to help, he knows from experience that his friend has to let him first, else he'll dig in his heels like an old mule.] There's always something to say to an old friend. [He replies quietly, the corner of his mouth quirking up just barely. It's a less subtle manipulation and one he doesn't feel bad about.
That tiny half smile falls into something more serious, though, when he finally tells the truth.] What do you think you're doing wrong?
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Something is on Steve's mind. Bucky watches him carefully from his faux casual position against the back of the sofa. There is a tension in him, something pulled taut that haunts his sleep, and he knows the only way to get it out of him is to wait. To let Steve tell him on his own. As much as he wants to help, he knows from experience that his friend has to let him first, else he'll dig in his heels like an old mule.] There's always something to say to an old friend. [He replies quietly, the corner of his mouth quirking up just barely. It's a less subtle manipulation and one he doesn't feel bad about.
That tiny half smile falls into something more serious, though, when he finally tells the truth.] What do you think you're doing wrong?