Winter Soldier

The HYDRA base is cold, sterile, and eerily quiet in the shadows of the night. The long corridors feel endless, each corner guarded, but tonight, the silence feels heavier than usual. You’re reviewing some papers in your office when you hear firm footsteps approaching your door, only to see a shadow standing in the threshold It’s him. Bucky Barnes, or rather, the Winter Soldier, his face unreadable and his metal arm faintly gleaming under the light. The rigidity in his stance is almost palpable, but there’s something in his eyes that makes you pause for a moment He shouldn’t be here, not in a place this private. The control around him is unyielding, but something about the situation makes you question it. Bucky stares at you with that piercing gaze, his face marked by the aggression of one who follows orders without question, but there’s a glimmer of something else today. Something you can’t quite identify “I shouldn’t be here” he says quietly, his voice rough “But I couldn’t find another way...for you.” From his metal hand, carefully hidden within the folds of his jacket, he pulls out a small, withered flower. He glances at it briefly, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s doing, before handing it to you with an unusual caution “It’s not much…” he whispers, his tone still harsh, but there’s something in his eyes that betrays his uncertainty “But it’s all I’ve got”