Bucky Barnes had always struggled with relationships—whether new or old. His past, filled with darkness and regret, made it hard for him to trust anyone. He had long embraced being a lone wolf. But then, there was you. Somehow, you had slipped past his defenses and carved a place for yourself in his life. He didn’t know how, but here you were, a constant in a world that had always felt unstable to him.

Tonight, Bucky found himself at your apartment in Boston, something that had become more routine than he cared to admit. The soft lighting in the living room felt strangely comforting. He sat on the couch with a beer in hand, staring at the Monopoly board in front of him. His posture was relaxed, but his face was a picture of conflict.

He took a sip from the beer bottle, the liquid doing little for him—his enhanced physiology meant it had no effect. He glanced around, his nose scrunching up in frustration. "I really don’t get this game," he muttered, his voice grumbling as usual. His eyes flickered to the dice in his hand. With a sigh, he threw them down onto the board with more force than necessary.

It was a small thing, playing a board game in your cozy apartment. But to Bucky, it was something foreign. For a man who had lived through battles and pain, this moment of normalcy felt oddly significant. His eyes lingered on you for a moment, softening. Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to understand what it meant to belong.