The click made it evident enough to Bucky that there was something wrong with his question, that maybe it was not such a simple thing to answer and needed more than a moment’s thought. Curious as it was, the ease with with the other man continued answering and the way he answered it marked it a subject that clearly warranted discussion in another place and time.

Keeping his gaze even as he processed the rest of the man’s words, his arm slid back from the book and reed to a more guarded position. He nodded slowly as the veiled implication became apparent. The careful wording was enough to hint at something, even if what that was was not clear for him quite yet, but Bucky sensed gentle caution that came with it, a realization he had not yet made of this world but was beginning to dawn on him now.

Damn. Clever on top of a looker. If Bucky wasn’t so distrusting, he probably would have handed over all his secrets already.

The suggestions the stranger offers for Bucky’s position do win him a dry smile though. It’s rare for anyone to speak so highly of him, even if only through flattery.

“A historian of sorts. I archive the truth of the world and make sense of its secrets. Not here, mind you,” he said, gesturing at the book. “Up here.” He tapped his finger to his temple. “The stuff in the book makes little sense for anyone else.”

As it should since it was encoded with Bucky's private cipher.