One of the things that Bucky had come to find during his stint of self discovery, healing, and the seemingly impossible task of self-forgiveness, was that sometimes there just weren't answers or explanations, sometimes there wasn't a right thing to say. Sometimes things were just a lot and it was going to take a long time to sort through that and figure out how to cope. That was.. kind of a summation of the past handful of years of his life. There was no way Bucky could or would ever be able to truly reconcile that the things the Winter Soldier did weren't his -- Bucky's -- fault. It was why he'd just sat there in that restraining chamber when he'd been arrested in Romania with Steve and Sam. As was evidenced, he clearly could've freed himself and broken out of it with only his bare hands. But he'd sat there, ready to take whatever punishment they dealt to him before Zemo interfered. Bucky wondered, a little, if that was how she'd been feeling when they found her opening and shutting that door. Just sort of.. empty.
All he could do was offer himself to her in every sense of the word. Whatever she needed, he'd give to her and he'd do so with his whole heart. If that was all he could give her, then he was glad it helped. It made him happy to know that she felt like she could talk with him so openly. He wanted to be that person for her; a sounding board, someone to lean on if and when she needed it. And he was glad she wasn't afraid or too stubborn to admit that she did need it.
Bucky leaned in to kiss her back, gently, and splayed his fingers to press them into her back. Her body was warm and soft, her curves and his lines fitting so well together. "I'm yours, whether there are clothes involved or not," he said, and grinned a little before pressing another kiss to her cheek. "You can always tell me anything, Natalia, no matter how hard it is to say. I'm not going anywhere."