Hi everyone ! Chapter 2 is out. I hope my english is not very bad.
I'm french and I'm trying my best.
I really hope you'll enjoy my story !
I took a long shower after spending the afternoon cleaning my apartment.
Not that it especially needed it, but it was a reflex when I had someone over.
I was nervous as hell. Buck would be arriving at my house in less than an hour.
After we signed our contract three days ago, we agreed to meet at my house to begin therapy.
Our psychiatrists suggested a place that would be warmer than a medical office. Buck wasn't ready to have a stranger in his home, so my apartment was the solution.
I realize how strange this is. A girl welcoming a stranger just to touch him and be touched in return. I could easily imagine the mockery and gossip.
Even I thought it was a strange idea. But I knew I had to start somewhere. And since I had no alternative to propose, I agreed to give it a try.
I put on a pair of black jogging pants and a dark grey sweater with long sleeves.
I wondered if I should make dinner. Buck would be there at 7:00.
I decided not to do anything. At worst, I'll order something. If he wanted to eat, of course.
It was a long wait, but 7:00 p.m. finally arrived. I assumed he would be late, but he was early.
I took a deep breath before opening the door.
- Hello. I said shyly.
He was so tall and imposing. Anyone would feel small in his presence. Except for the Hulk, maybe.
- Hi.
I let him pass and closed behind him.
He was wearing the same jacket as last time, but his clothes were different.
- Do you want something to drink? I said after a few seconds of silence.
He nodded while looking around. I didn't feel offended by his behavior. Strangely, I preferred to start the conversation.
I searched into my fridge and grabbed two beers. I don't think he would have preferred orange juice.
As I returned to the living room, I saw that he was looking at my walls with a strange look. If he was looking for pictures, he wouldn't find any.
- Here. You can sit down.
I gestured to my dining room table, but he was looking at the couch.
- Wouldn't that be more convenient?
I stiffened for a few seconds. Yes, it was more convenient. But less comfortable. The distance wasn't far enough for me.
- Okay, let's go to the dining room.
His tone had softened. To be honest, I would have had the same reaction with anyone.
But he wasn't just anyone. I was trying hard not to think about who he was.
I had to see him as someone who was struggling with his trauma.
I sat at the end of the table, while he sat on my right. Not too far, not too close.
- How do you usually do this? I asked him.
He stared at me intently. I had never done this before. I didn't even know where to start.
- It depends on the person. But in my case, it never worked. So I don't think it's the right way.
- Well, it wasn't the methods that were the problem.
It just came out, without any malice. I was about to apologize when he smiled.
- That's true. Personally, I prefer to talk first.
I took a sip before answering.
- Did you ever get to the point of touching?
He took a sip in turn.
- No. I almost did once, but the guy got scared. The first girl refused right away and the second one wasn't home when I got there. She called her doctor to say she had changed her mind.
I gave him a sad smile.
- I almost did. I admitted, half ashamed.
His eyes were piercing mine.
- I'm sure you did. I'm surprised those three days didn't make you back off.
I was surprised too. I almost called my psychiatrist several times to cancel.
- I said I would try. But if it really doesn't work, I don't want you to think that...
- You don't have to force yourself or explain.
I looked down. He wasn't hateful despite the fact that people constantly pushed him away.
Deep down, I was sure he wouldn't mind if I stopped. He must have even expected it.
- Okay. You want to talk first ? I said in a lighter tone.
- You already know a lot about me. I'm at a disadvantage.
- Okay. What do you want to know?
He looked around.
- Have you always lived here?
- No. I grew up in Virginia. And I came to New York when I was 17.
- How old are you?
- 31.
He was shaking his head. He had to do the math in his head.
- You live alone, I guess.
- Yes. You too?
Another nod. He seemed to hesitate before continuing.
- This deprivation thing. Have you always had it?
It was my turn to hesitate. He noticed.
- You don't have to answer. he said with a wave of his hand.
- No, it's just that it's hard to define when it really started.
I wasn't ready to talk about the details.
- It started when I was a kid, and it came back as an adult. Short version.
I couldn't give him a better answer.
- What about you? I tried.
He raised an eyebrow.
- Yes, I suspect it has something to do with HYDRA, but...
- Yes, it's with them. he interrupted me.
I couldn't help but think what it must have been like. To be frozen, and thawed only to kill. To have your memories erased. Your emotions erased.
My gaze landed on his left arm. It was covered by his jacket, but that didn't change the strength he had.
- Do you want to see it?
I was startled and gave him an apologetic look.
- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...
He didn't let me finish. He put down his beer and took off his jacket. He wore simple black t-shirt.
His metal arm was inches away from my right hand. All my instincts were screaming at me to back away, but I forced myself to stay put.
It was really strange. Strange and fascinating. Except for the shape of the fingers, there was nothing human about this object. And yet it worked like one. Except for its strength.
Without realizing it, I slowly moved my hand closer. When I realized it, I looked at Buck.
- Can I try?
He held my gaze, but I could see some apprehension. However, he nodded slightly.
I took a breath and gently placed my fingers on the top of his metal hand.
I knew I was bypassing the therapy exercise. I wasn't touching someone's skin.
But I was touching someone. For the first time in years.
The touch was cold, but not unpleasant. I was watching Buck's reactions to see if it was too much for him.
I gently moved my hand up his arm. I was mesmerized by the sight.
I lowered my hand, and he moved his. My fingers made contact with his, and my breath caught in my throat.
- Do you feel anything? I asked.
- Yes. He said
His eyes were riveted on our hands. Our fingers were just touching, but it was enough.
I wasn't afraid of him at all right now. It was my reaction that I was afraid of. If it went on too long, things could come up.
I abruptly withdrew my hand.
- I'm sorry.
He coughed and sat back in his chair.
- No problem. But that's cheating, right?
I could see by his smile that he was trying to lighten the mood.
- I know. But it's still a start.
He gave me a smile. A real one.
We stayed for a few more minutes talking about everything and anything, until he got up and told me he had to go.
I opened the door for him, and he stood in the doorway.
- Should I call my therapist to reschedule us? he asked.
- Yes. I'll call mine. I replied with a smile.
He nodded and left without a word.
I closed the door and huffed.