I could see that for you. Palm trees, sunshine, beaches, and yoga. [ That last part might be joking. Maybe. Bucky leans back on his gloved hands, his coffee cup wedged into the sand where it won't fall over. ]

And yep. Born and raised.

[ A slight hesitation. It's that pause where, ordinarily, he'd be lying or evading or simply sitting silent right about now. It's unexpectedly strange knowing that he doesn't have to do that around her; that he can be a little more honest. So he gives it a shot: ]

I slummed it in Europe for a couple years when I was on the run. It was— kinda nice, actually, but coming home was better. Still can't really picture myself living anywhere else long-term, even if the city's all different.