[He watches how she adjusts herself, appreciates it, but he stares at the hand for a little too long before he finally reaches out and takes it, shakes it gently, but pulls his hand back quickly. There's only so much touch he can really stand. With certain exceptions.
And, as always, he's expected to respond with his own name, which he does.]
James. Or Bucky.
[But it's a little hollow sounding, because he still doesn't really feel associated with those names. He answers to them, he provides them, but they don't feel like him yet.
Then again, it's not like he's got anyone else to be at the moment.]
no subject
And, as always, he's expected to respond with his own name, which he does.]
James. Or Bucky.
[But it's a little hollow sounding, because he still doesn't really feel associated with those names. He answers to them, he provides them, but they don't feel like him yet.
Then again, it's not like he's got anyone else to be at the moment.]