#twalb

https://artfight.net/attack/7238165.digivolution-activate

artfight revenge on @rooks-gallery!

bucky’s hands brush over the sides of your face, fingertips against your cheek bones. you know that this hasn’t been easy for him. it has been many, many years since he has fully allowed himself the luxury of comfort, and such an abundant amount like he has with you, no less. you know that sometimes he’s not sure the right things to say. but you’ve never cared. you have loved him anyway, and because of it.

you can feel his shaky breath rumble low in his chest. “i’m sorry,” he whispers, all low and vulnerable in that way that you know is so difficult. “that it has to be like this.”

like this translates more so to late nights spent alone, wondering if he’ll return. hoping that he’s okay. hoping that he’s smiled that day. but none of that matters. it doesn’t matter more than the love you feel for him, anyway.

you shake your head and you run your hand up and down his arm, the metal one. “don’t be,” those pretty eyes stare into yours. “you’re worth it. more than worth it. you’re--”

the words are stolen from your mouth and swallowed by his kiss, the soft brush of his hand against your cheek. this has always been the way he felt best at conveying his emotion towards you-- the words are tricky, but he has learned over the course of a lifetime just how much touch can affect another person. if you can help it, you will never let a hurtful thing touch him ever again.

when he comes home with bruises blossoming like wildflowers littered across his torso, you could kill anyone who ever caused him hard. in this decade and decades past.

your lips part and you sigh into him, holding onto him. his grip on your face is firm but still delicate, like you are precious glass that could break with the wrong touch.

bucky uses touch, you use words.

but i have to queue them all which involves writing alt text for multi paneled pages