Re: quicklog, marvel (nyc): luke h & bucky b
Luke took two steps through the door, the tip of a knife came to rest comfortably along the edge of his neck, settled with the edge against his carotid artery. It wasn't a long blade, but it was sharp, the metal cool. The man behind the doorframe had hardly seemed to breathe, but there could be no doubting that this was the scent Luke had tracked. His voice, when he did speak, was a low rumble, even, rough.