[ Rolling onto her back, she lets out a huff of breath, unsettling some strands of straight dark hair from her face as she stares up at him. From this angle, he's all dark and looming and HYDRA-y. He's doing it on purpose, and they both know it, reminding her of everything she hates because hate is the best motivator out there.
Mine it. Use it.
She counts to three, and at three, she forces herself to push back to her feet. Standing, she shakes dark hair from her face and back over her shoulder, with the exception of short, blunt bangs. ]
Anybody ever tell you that you're not much of a people person? Maybe if I was getting a gold star out of this … [ His methods are different than May's; he's harder. Beneath all of May's hard-to-read steel, there's always something warm and protective. Meanwhile, Bucky's freaking Siberia by comparison.
It's good for her, though. She digs her heels into the dirt, nods. There's an ache in her shoulder, radiating outward, warm from inflammation. Pulled something, or chipped something, or— None of that's any more real than gravity. Biting through the pain, she begins to lift the injured arm, rolling her shoulder to try and stubborn her way through the ache. Fire sparks in her shoulder joint, and the pain overwhelms her, but she bites through it.
Crouches.
Jumps.
This time, when she crashes, she lands on her knees. A step closer to making it onto her feet. But she's shaky on her knees, and she falls back onto her face a moment later. ]
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Mine it. Use it.
She counts to three, and at three, she forces herself to push back to her feet. Standing, she shakes dark hair from her face and back over her shoulder, with the exception of short, blunt bangs. ]
Anybody ever tell you that you're not much of a people person? Maybe if I was getting a gold star out of this … [ His methods are different than May's; he's harder. Beneath all of May's hard-to-read steel, there's always something warm and protective. Meanwhile, Bucky's freaking Siberia by comparison.
It's good for her, though. She digs her heels into the dirt, nods. There's an ache in her shoulder, radiating outward, warm from inflammation. Pulled something, or chipped something, or— None of that's any more real than gravity. Biting through the pain, she begins to lift the injured arm, rolling her shoulder to try and stubborn her way through the ache. Fire sparks in her shoulder joint, and the pain overwhelms her, but she bites through it.
Crouches.
Jumps.
This time, when she crashes, she lands on her knees. A step closer to making it onto her feet. But she's shaky on her knees, and she falls back onto her face a moment later. ]