*someone shows up to the gallery with a baseball cap tilted low to not show their face and a fur-lined (most likely fake fur) jean jacket. Hands in their pockets. It's hard to miss the shadow of a scar across their right cheek though*
The museum was already buzzing with people, though the atmosphere remained calm despite the harsh subject of the exhibition. A waiter approached the new guest and gave a slight nod of greeting.
“Good evening, would you like a glass of champagne?” the waiter asked politely, offering a tall, slender crystal flute with a courteous smile.
*I smile wide*
Certainly! Thank you very much.
*I take the flute and sip the champagne*
Several paintings were already surrounded by viewers, people of all ages. Some were teenagers dressed in red, both as a show of solidarity for Daredevil and as an act of rebellion.
A small circle of guests had already gathered in the center of the museum around a woman dressed in a long white gown, its delicate lace train cascading behind her. Her raven-dark hair and the shadowy scars running along her arms stood in stark contrast to the room, even to her own attire, yet the crowd seemed captivated by the explanations she offered.
The woman smiled politely at them and thanked them warmly, offering a few of them embraces, but her eyes remained alert, carefully studying every guest and every corner of the gallery.
*I make small talk if I am engaged with, but otherwise my eyes are trained on the door, waiting, it seems*
The woman in the white dress gave a brief bow of thanks before making her way through the crowd. Her green eyes locked onto the newest arrival, slowly looking him over from head to toe.
She approached him, her feline stride and the sharp click of her thin heels against the museum marble making her seem even more commanding. She was the curator of the exhibition.
Stopping in front of him, she offered a faint smile.
“Good evening. Welcome to our expo. You enjoying the…” She gestured lightly toward the champagne glass before trailing off with an amused little smirk.
Willow stepped out of the car as Bucky parked up outside the expo.
"I'm actually kind of excited." She looked at him as he stepped around the car. She put out her hand and curled her fingers, wanting to take his hand.
"Come on, handsome." She smiled.
Bucky and Willow stepped out of the car and made their way toward the museum. His hand settled protectively against the small of her back, guiding her toward the entrance where a few waiters greeted them with trays of champagne.
Bucky straightened slightly and drew in a quiet breath through his nose.
“You think her boyfriend’s gonna be here too…?” he muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening for a brief moment.
