“No, it’s not that,” Bucky tells her, biting his lip as he searches for the words to explain what he’s feeling. He doesn’t want her to think that he thinks she’s delicate, or that he didn’t greatly enjoy what they just did together.

“I just— I wanted to be sure,” he explains quietly, resting his hand over the marks and and not quite meeting her eye. “All I did for a very long time was hurt people against my will. Sometimes I worry, I guess.”

And then he chuckles and shifts his arm to hide his face with his metal hand for a moment, slightly embarrassed and shaking his head.

“The last thing I would want to do is hurt you,” he says as he lifts his hand to cup Sylvie’s face, stroking his metal thumb softly across her chin. “So I hope you’ll indulge me if I need to check in sometimes when things get intense. Just to make sure.”

He smiles like he knows that he’s being ridiculous and touches his thumb to the dip below her lower lip. “Even though you’re a god.”