Novel & Cerita Bucky/reader

Bucky frowned and walked into the office. The desk was still the same, just like before he left. He pulled out the half-read documents and continued reading. It was just that he had only read for nearly ten minutes, and hadn't even turned a single page. Bucky reached out to pull his shirt, and took out the 'brick' phone from his pocket. He also didn't understand why he was holding this discarded phone, a push-button phone from more than ten years ago, a phone that even Mr. Quitman didn't use.

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My voice did not shake. The man tilted his head. He didn't have a face, just a shifting darkness where his features should be. "You can call me the Reader," he said. His voice sounded like paper rubbing together. "I am the one who pays for the ink. I am the one who decides if your story ends here or keeps going." Bryan stepped in front of me, his hand on his pistol. "He’s another code, Hazel. Don’t listen to him." The Reader laughed. It was a dry, thin sound. "A copy thinks he has a choice. How cute."