Serial Killer
He looked down at his lap in an attempt to avoid her emerald green stare. Bucky didn’t want to argue with her. Especially not over this. She was the only thing that he knew. An escape from the life he couldn’t remember, and the new life that he was trying desperately to forget. If he lost her, there’d be no coming back from that.
She stood still, waiting for a response, but wasn’t going to get one. Anything that he said at this point wouldn’t be what she wanted to hear. They both knew that. He combed through his incomplete mind, searching for an answer. There wasn’t one. So instead of speaking, he unzipped his jacket and pulled the left sleeve from his bionic arm. If trust was what she wanted, this was his way of giving it to her.
She stood still, waiting for a response, but wasn’t going to get one. Anything that he said at this point wouldn’t be what she wanted to hear. They both knew that. He combed through his incomplete mind, searching for an answer. There wasn’t one. So instead of speaking, he unzipped his jacket and pulled the left sleeve from his bionic arm. If trust was what she wanted, this was his way of giving it to her.