He spent the rest of the day in a sort of daze, wandering around his room and all too often touching his lips, tasting them and even sometimes just staring at a wall. The memories started to leak through the cracks of his blank mind hours later, but unlike the others that tended to come horrible and painfully, these came sweet and slow, filling his mind with warmth and anticipation despite that some of them were of times when he had two flesh arms. They weren't all that clear in places, like watching someone else's dream, but they contented him and made him plenty docile even as people came to check on him or provide him food. For the most part, he sat quiet and didn't even mind the time slipping by.
He had loved her. It seemed foreign to think about that because even now he couldn't say that he recognized any emotion as love. There was nothing inside of him to replicate the feeling, too dulled from emotion as he was through fierce conditioning. Way back then though, he had loved her; he had a memory of telling her so, even if it felt like someone else's life.
By the second day, someone provided him with a novel to prevent him from going into a 'kiss coma'. He didn't know what that was, but he suspected it might have been an attempt at a joke to him. He didn't recognize the man in question, but there were hand actions that he did understand. 'They are coming. Patience'
So, he read the novel for nothing else to do, passing hours between increasing his activities in the room. His body was mostly incapable of going soft, but he was to be prepared for when the orders came down the line when a handler arrived to take him in hand. More books arrived when he finished the first, one of which had a page marked with the familiar sign of Hydra that he knew well enough, but he was discrete in pulling the page and getting rid of it during his next piss.
He was sitting on the floor reading when the door opened, and his blue eyes flicked up from the pages to regard Stephanie as she entered with his meal. With a single fluid movement, he flowed to his feet as the door closed them in together, ignoring the book immediately to instead shift to sit on the corner of the table. "Was that your first kiss since then?" He ignored her question or the use of his apparent first name.
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He had loved her. It seemed foreign to think about that because even now he couldn't say that he recognized any emotion as love. There was nothing inside of him to replicate the feeling, too dulled from emotion as he was through fierce conditioning. Way back then though, he had loved her; he had a memory of telling her so, even if it felt like someone else's life.
By the second day, someone provided him with a novel to prevent him from going into a 'kiss coma'. He didn't know what that was, but he suspected it might have been an attempt at a joke to him. He didn't recognize the man in question, but there were hand actions that he did understand. 'They are coming. Patience'
So, he read the novel for nothing else to do, passing hours between increasing his activities in the room. His body was mostly incapable of going soft, but he was to be prepared for when the orders came down the line when a handler arrived to take him in hand. More books arrived when he finished the first, one of which had a page marked with the familiar sign of Hydra that he knew well enough, but he was discrete in pulling the page and getting rid of it during his next piss.
He was sitting on the floor reading when the door opened, and his blue eyes flicked up from the pages to regard Stephanie as she entered with his meal. With a single fluid movement, he flowed to his feet as the door closed them in together, ignoring the book immediately to instead shift to sit on the corner of the table. "Was that your first kiss since then?" He ignored her question or the use of his apparent first name.