Bucky let out a stark sigh and leaned against the wooden chair with the cushioned seat. His hand rose to his thick hair, combing them through the loose strands in the front.

Staring towards her, the older looking therapist who definitely had no concerns about being in a room with being seated alone with an ex—assassin and.. you.

,,you both need this.,, she insists tiredly. ,,Bucky this is..,, her hand rose toward you, voice trailing off with a tedious exhale.