[Usually, Bucky is too. Not Steve fast, obviously, but fast.
Right now, though, he's keeping his right hand against the door frame of the infirmary trying to catch his breath, which is hard to do when he's pretty sure Zane busted a rib, maybe two. Or three. His left hand's tucked awkwardly in his jacket pocket, and he's still got his gun in his right, just in case.
And despite knowing he's probably got some kind of concussion, he still whips around to look when he hears footsteps behind him. He manages a smile that's maybe a little guilty.]
Spam
Right now, though, he's keeping his right hand against the door frame of the infirmary trying to catch his breath, which is hard to do when he's pretty sure Zane busted a rib, maybe two. Or three. His left hand's tucked awkwardly in his jacket pocket, and he's still got his gun in his right, just in case.
And despite knowing he's probably got some kind of concussion, he still whips around to look when he hears footsteps behind him. He manages a smile that's maybe a little guilty.]
Hey.