Chapter 8

3 days later

"You can't be serious," the Winter Soldier snorted.

"I am," Darla replied firmly.

"This is ridiculous…"

"Just humor me. Please."

"What's the point of…"

"Sit down and hold my freaking hand," she snapped.

The soldier looked surprised before his eyebrows furrowed. She was aware that she really shouldn't anger him, he had probably killed people for much less, but she wasn't going to give up. She stood her ground and crossed her arms, trying her best to look authoritative. That wasn't very convincing, since he was over a head taller than her. He glared at her, but by some miracle he actually sat down.

"Thank you," she stated and took a seat beside him.

He huffed but didn't resist when she took his hand. It felt surprisingly warm. She wasn't sure why, but she had expected his skin to feel colder. He didn't move as she twined her fingers between his. This wasn't so bad. She could almost imagine that they were just two normal people on a date or something. She needed to imagine that. They couldn't keep lying for much longer. She needed to get used to him and his touch.

"Now what?" he murmured.

"Let's just stay like this for a moment," she replied. "If that's okay with you?"

He didn't reply but he didn't yank his hand away either. That was a good start.

"Could you tell me something about yourself?" she asked after a moment of silence.

She knew that he was an assassin and they had used some kind of brainwash method on him, but according to her father, he had already been a killer before that. Her father had called him a natural born killer. HYDRA had only made him more efficient by making him stronger and giving him the metal arm. That didn't sound very good, but she knew better than blindly believe everything her father told her. This man had proven that he wasn't some kind of soulless monster, he deserved a benefit of the doubt.

"There's nothing to tell," he replied.

"Surely there's something…"

"There's not," he snapped.

She hesitated for a moment before asking her next question.

"Could you at least tell me your name?"

"No."

"I won't tell anyone if that's what worries you. I literally can't tell anyone…"

"I can't tell you my name because I don't have one," he cut in tensely.

Her eyes widened.

"What? You must have a name…"

"I don't." He paused for a moment before continuing. "If I do, I can't remember what it is."

"Oh…. I'm so sorry to hear that."

"Why?" he snorted. "I don't need a name."

She hesitated, trying to choose her words carefully.

"I think you do. Everyone does. A name is an important part of our identity."

"I don't have an identity."

"I think you do. What would you like me to call you?"

"Nothing," he huffed.

"Well, that's too bad because I'm going to call you something. How about… Cutie pie?"

He looked at her and frowned.

"What?"

"Or then you can choose a name," she hummed innocently.

"That's not going to happen…"

"Come on, just close your eyes and tell me the first name that pops into your head."

"This is stupid…"

"Alright, fine, Cutie pie it is."

He huffed and rolled his eyes.

"Are you always so irritating?"

She shrugged.

"Are you always so stubborn?"

"Fine," he snapped. "Fine if that makes you happy."

"It does," she assured. "Close your eyes."

He didn't look happy, but he obeyed.

"Now take a deep breath and tell me the first name that pops into your head."

"Steve," he murmured.

"Okay, that's good. Steve. Now put your arm around me."

Surprisingly, he obeyed without arguing. She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Does this feel okay to you?" she asked.

"Hmm," he murmured.

This time they were in no hurry, their time would be longer. All thanks to the bruises on her arm. Her father had been pleased to see them and told her to keep up the good work. He had assumed that the Winter Soldier was becoming more relaxed with her. She had no idea why that mattered. Maybe it was all just one big sick joke, just like the lollipop. At this point she didn't think that anything would surprise her.

"Do you want to try kissing?" she asked.

"If you insist," he replied.

"Funny." She paused and pulled away. "Okay, let's try it."

They stared at each other, both expecting the other one to do something.

"Okay… You need to lean your head down," she instructed after a moment of silence.

He obeyed, still staring at her. She hesitated for a moment before carefully wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Okay…"

She touched his lips lightly with hers. It wasn't a real kiss, more like a cautious test. It didn't feel unpleasant, just foreign. It had been years since she had kissed someone. She had been young, a child. The boy had been her classmate. Unfortunately, their teacher had caught them and called her mother. She had been furious to say the least.

"How was that?" she murmured.

He didn't reply, he simply gripped her carefully by the back of the neck and brought her mouth to his. With a groan, he captured her lips in a hungry kiss. His metal arm grabbed her by the waist, pulling her close to him. This was too much too fast.

"Steve," she murmured. "Steve, please stop."

He was panting as he pulled away.

"I'm sorry…"

"No, no, that's okay," she assured. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be difficult. I'm really trying."

"I believe you," he murmured.

"Thank you."

They were both quiet for a moment before she continued.

"There's one more thing. I need you to…cause me bruises."

He stared at her disbelievingly.

"What?"

She pressed her lips together.

"My father thinks that's a good thing. That we're making some kind of progress."

"What progress?"

"I don't know," she sighed. "I can do it myself, but I thought it would be more believable if…"

"That's not a part of my mission," he stated tensely.

"I know and I really don't want you to break my bones or anything, just… A bruise or two would do."

He didn't say anything and for a moment she thought that he was mad at her. Then she realized what the problem was.

"You don't want to hurt me."

"Why would I?" he murmured tensely. "That's not a part of my mission."

"Okay," she said and touched his hand. "It's okay. I can do it."

She looked around, trying to decide what would the easiest way to bruise her arm. She was just about to stand up when he stopped her.

"Give me your hand," he stated, his voice held no emotion.

She obeyed.

"Where?"

She thought about it for a moment and decided that it didn't matter.

"Anywhere is fine."

He used his normal hand and pressed lightly above her wrist. It was enough to cause a small bruise.

"Thank you," she said.

He didn't reply and his face was completely blank. She hoped that she hadn't just make a mistake.