[Steve moves, hesitant, and perches on the very edge of the seat at the end of the row. Everything about his posture says that he expects Bucky to bolt at any second. And he's not sure what he would do about it.]
She had great legs. You used to talk about them for days. I drew a picture of her for you once.
[And there's a bittersweet moment where it might as well have been a scene from the past playing up on that screen: It was a summer day, and there was a light breeze that kept fluttering the page of his sketchpad. Bucky's hair. Monochrome, just the way he remembers.]
no subject
[Steve moves, hesitant, and perches on the very edge of the seat at the end of the row. Everything about his posture says that he expects Bucky to bolt at any second. And he's not sure what he would do about it.]
She had great legs. You used to talk about them for days. I drew a picture of her for you once.
[And there's a bittersweet moment where it might as well have been a scene from the past playing up on that screen: It was a summer day, and there was a light breeze that kept fluttering the page of his sketchpad. Bucky's hair. Monochrome, just the way he remembers.]