He wasn't necessarily sweet, back in the day. He was social, outgoing, loved the parties, enjoyed the company, but he never really thought about finding the one girl he could settle down with. That was always going to be something that would happen after the war. After the war, when he came home, and then he could worry about a stable job, a stable marriage, a stable home. Until then, there was no need to make any commitments, no need for sappy promises.
Well, after the war never happened, but this is still familiar to him. This is what he was supposed to do, according to-- well, everyone. His vibranium hand reacts almost as if he could feel Zemo's touch, fingers lifting off the surface of the table before drumming back down again. To be fair, Zemo has been far more even-tempered than Bucky has. Maybe he's just better at internalising his frustrations, and somehow Bucky thinks that's something to aspire to. At least, he thinks it's better than being mercurial, prone to snapping. Although he doesn't make a habit of pushing Zemo's buttons to see exactly how much he can annoy him before making him snap, so, maybe Bucky's not all to blame for being unable to rein those occasional outbursts in.
He doesn't think he deserves any nice things, but there's something about the promise of it, that there's so much more to life than what he's seen and done over these past few years that makes him feel a little optimistic in ways that he is quick to try and quash down in case they never come to fruition.
"You've always kept your cool, dealt with everything by yourself. Even if-- we weren't married, you can. Talk to me, you know." But now that they are married, that's even more reason to talk. "I mean, you talk a lot, but. You don't say much, in the end." Even if it looks like Bucky is just glaring at him or staring off into the distance, even if he doesn't have any advice to give or replies with nothing more than a grunt, he is listening. He's always listening, analysing, internalising, processing. Maybe one day he'll get better with the output side of things.
At least, better enough to not feel awkward about the 'L' word. While he certainly hopes that Zemo doesn't think of him as just some kind of burden to look after, the L word is dangerous territory. Even if it's expected for the L word to come up often in a marriage.
"I can't-- let my guard down." He's accepted that he will never be able to be in a headspace that is so comfortable and safe that he won't double-check if doors are locked or visually check the windows and doors twice a minute. There's nothing anyone can do about that. "And I don't know, what will happen, when that time is up. But I can... let you in, more." As in, willingly, and not Zemo trying to brute force his way inside Bucky's head and make himself comfortable.
And, yes. He can also finish his pasta and let Zemo get the check so they can leave soon.
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Well, after the war never happened, but this is still familiar to him. This is what he was supposed to do, according to-- well, everyone. His vibranium hand reacts almost as if he could feel Zemo's touch, fingers lifting off the surface of the table before drumming back down again. To be fair, Zemo has been far more even-tempered than Bucky has. Maybe he's just better at internalising his frustrations, and somehow Bucky thinks that's something to aspire to. At least, he thinks it's better than being mercurial, prone to snapping. Although he doesn't make a habit of pushing Zemo's buttons to see exactly how much he can annoy him before making him snap, so, maybe Bucky's not all to blame for being unable to rein those occasional outbursts in.
He doesn't think he deserves any nice things, but there's something about the promise of it, that there's so much more to life than what he's seen and done over these past few years that makes him feel a little optimistic in ways that he is quick to try and quash down in case they never come to fruition.
"You've always kept your cool, dealt with everything by yourself. Even if-- we weren't married, you can. Talk to me, you know." But now that they are married, that's even more reason to talk. "I mean, you talk a lot, but. You don't say much, in the end." Even if it looks like Bucky is just glaring at him or staring off into the distance, even if he doesn't have any advice to give or replies with nothing more than a grunt, he is listening. He's always listening, analysing, internalising, processing. Maybe one day he'll get better with the output side of things.
At least, better enough to not feel awkward about the 'L' word. While he certainly hopes that Zemo doesn't think of him as just some kind of burden to look after, the L word is dangerous territory. Even if it's expected for the L word to come up often in a marriage.
"I can't-- let my guard down." He's accepted that he will never be able to be in a headspace that is so comfortable and safe that he won't double-check if doors are locked or visually check the windows and doors twice a minute. There's nothing anyone can do about that. "And I don't know, what will happen, when that time is up. But I can... let you in, more." As in, willingly, and not Zemo trying to brute force his way inside Bucky's head and make himself comfortable.
And, yes. He can also finish his pasta and let Zemo get the check so they can leave soon.