He could tell from the way she’d approached that she only meant respect by the the suggestion, concern clear in her voice, and though he had no plans of stripping in front others, not with the scarring along his shoulder, Bucky could not help but smile at the genuine consideration from a stranger, the act itself so foreign that he almost felt human for a moment. It also helped that he caught the familiar accent in her voice, even as much as it maybe didn’t matter so much anymore. New York City was hardly a home for him any longer.

Brushing a few clumped strands of wet hair to the side, he nodded appreciatively while taking up the blankets placed along the chair arm.

“Thanks. Yeah, wasn’t really my choice, but what can you do?” he laughs easily, lighthearted excuse following. “Ain’t so sure I should be taking anything off though. Not when I haven’t the faintest idea what people think of missing limbs. Not the prettiest thing to look at, miss.”