those were the longest three hours of my life
[For a moment there, it looks like Bucky can't decide what he wants to stare at more -- the newly-formed chandelier or Elsa herself. The relief (that she's back, that she's unhurt and safe) mixes with familiar frustration (she still insists on calling him by the rank), only to give way to complete astonishment when the corners of her mouth tilt up slightly in the kind of smile he can't ever remember seeing on her.
(No, that's a lie, he can remember, will always remember, as much as he might be telling himself he should forget.)
There's very little else to do but to smile at her in return, an honest smile that's both relieved and cautiously optimistic, as he starts walking to her.]
If I'da known you were in the middle of decorating, I woulda come in a little later. [No, that's a lie, he'd still be here right now.] But if you're worried about unfinished... I ain't gonna tell you I know much about architecture, but this? So pretty I kinda feel it's hard to breathe.
[If he looks at her when he says it rather than the surroundings, well. Pay no attention to that.]