Bucky watched her, chin down just a little, trying to understand her, and see her, but not ... stare at her. "I know you're not. I wasn't yours either. It's not ... responsibility. Just what I'd do. For a friend. We're working on being that, right? You don't owe me anything, I don't owe you anything. So just ... want to on my own, all right?" Bucky shrugged. "I'm not trying to be nice. Not ... not like it's doing you a favor you need to be grateful for or nice about. You can tell me to fuck off. You can tell me to shut up. I'll listen, and I'll still text you about the next book I read. There's not ... nothing's balancing out. If you'd never pulled me out of a party and helped me come down or given me and Steve help, I'd still want to be your friend and hope I could do something small and stupid to make your life less shitty some times, if you had a bad day. That's all. It doesn't have to be anything."
He watched her move. "Okay," Bucky said slowly. "I'll go out in the other room while you do that then. And if you want company, you can come out, and if you don't, you can stay wherever you want. And it's ... it's good with me either way, okay?"
Bucky didn't know what else to do, and that seemed like the best option. Leave it in her hands. "You make good coffee," he told her with the same small, unsure smile. "Most people make it too weak." Bucky hesitated for another second, and then he wasn't sure what else he'd say anyway, so he just smiled again with an awkward little shrug and ducked into the living room.