Bucky watches her with a small smile, sipping from his wine again as he considers his words. They're alike in a lot of ways, but the most obvious aren't exactly cheerful. But neither are their lives, and he doubles Sylvie would want to try and pretend otherwise.
"We were both made into fighters regardless of what we wanted," he begins quietly, reaching across the table to put his hand on top of hers. "We both know what it's like to be alone, regardless of what we wanted."
He smiles at her and squeezes her hand, rubbing the pad of his thumb back and forth across her knuckles. "We're both very stubborn, we both have blue eyes, the list goes on and on."
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"We were both made into fighters regardless of what we wanted," he begins quietly, reaching across the table to put his hand on top of hers. "We both know what it's like to be alone, regardless of what we wanted."
He smiles at her and squeezes her hand, rubbing the pad of his thumb back and forth across her knuckles. "We're both very stubborn, we both have blue eyes, the list goes on and on."