Bucky shuffled over to the chair and settled into it. Slumping down into it with a little bit of a huff. As she started speaking he watched her, his face down at the table, but his eyes up. Hoping for a glimmer of... something. Anything.
And then... There it was. The bandaid. His throat grew thick, as he kept hold the want to, wail, throw up, and scream all at the same time. He looked back down at his hands, in his lap. "I understand. I'll... I'll come back some other time and pack my stuff." He whispered, because he couldn't do anything else without his voice cracking. Closing his eyes he felt the heat of tears as they rolled down his cheeks.