“You still don’t trust people to see past how you look, do you?” Bucky asked.
Sure enough, big or small, people had always been unable to see beyond Steve’s appearance. The difference was that, now, more than his own reputation was at stake if someone succeeded.
“Maybe I don’t want them to,” Steve said.
“Why? You got nothing to be afraid of. It’s just you who thinks there’s something wrong with you.”
“That wouldn’t be very grateful of me. Dr. Erskine was a genius.”
“Right.” Bucky snorted. “I remember the face you used to get when you thought someone was looking down on you. Always got your guard up before anyone could throw a punch. Not all the girls hated you, y’know. You were just so sure they did, you didn’t give them a chance to show otherwise.” He took a long pull from his cigarette. The dusk was getting dense enough for the end of his smoke to glow red. “You still make that face, Steve. All the time. You ain’t through being scared, you just found yourself another reason.”
"The size of perfection".