If, he thought for himself as well following her reply, though he nodded regardless. There was no real knowing in their position anyway, was there? No sense wondering.
Watching her leave, he wondered silently how long she must have been here as well. It was a fair thing to question, considering what Peggy had told him, and even without understanding how all the time displacement functioned with regard to...well, the lives they knew before this place, it likely did not make the experience any easier for any of the otherwise. Unfair really. He could only hope he wasn’t blamed for it somehow.
When Wanda returned with the tray, he sat forward again, hand tugging the blanket more firmly over each shoulder so he could eat without losing the warmth of the cloth. He smelled the soup before she set it down in front of him, and it was familiar in a way he couldn’t place a specific memory to. Not that it changed much of anything because his stomach rumbled quietly regardless. His heightened metabolism was going to be trouble here.
“Thank you.” It was offered with a grateful smile, though perhaps more sheepish than it might be otherwise. Only then did he notice the spoon set in the soup that slowly—slowly—sank down into the potato, as it trying to hide from the world. His eyes lit up, earnest amusement settling into his expression, and he laughed quietly as the spoon continued sinking and sinking, fearing the daylight and curious eyes. Bucky plucked it up before it found itself immersed, smiling to himself before cleaning off the sides of the spoon with his tongue so as not to make a mess.
“This is good,” he commented, moving to get a proper spoonful. “Did you make this?”
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Watching her leave, he wondered silently how long she must have been here as well. It was a fair thing to question, considering what Peggy had told him, and even without understanding how all the time displacement functioned with regard to...well, the lives they knew before this place, it likely did not make the experience any easier for any of the otherwise. Unfair really. He could only hope he wasn’t blamed for it somehow.
When Wanda returned with the tray, he sat forward again, hand tugging the blanket more firmly over each shoulder so he could eat without losing the warmth of the cloth. He smelled the soup before she set it down in front of him, and it was familiar in a way he couldn’t place a specific memory to. Not that it changed much of anything because his stomach rumbled quietly regardless. His heightened metabolism was going to be trouble here.
“Thank you.” It was offered with a grateful smile, though perhaps more sheepish than it might be otherwise. Only then did he notice the spoon set in the soup that slowly—slowly—sank down into the potato, as it trying to hide from the world. His eyes lit up, earnest amusement settling into his expression, and he laughed quietly as the spoon continued sinking and sinking, fearing the daylight and curious eyes. Bucky plucked it up before it found itself immersed, smiling to himself before cleaning off the sides of the spoon with his tongue so as not to make a mess.
“This is good,” he commented, moving to get a proper spoonful. “Did you make this?”