ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍs

She rubs her hand over one broad shoulder, the other gripping his arm in a white knuckle grasp. "Deal," she says, hating that it sounds watery. She told herself she wasn't going to cry. But after everything they'd been through... Zola, Bucky, Sokovia... They had an undeniable bond that was tested and true. She refuses to give up when the alternative is him dying for literally nothing. "Promise?" It's said into his ear, her voice pitched high and vulnerable.