The Other One(STOPPED WRITING)

Chapter 58: Small talk..

My eyes flutter open, and I sit up to look over to the clock.
6:53.
Quickly, I lay my head back down on the pillow. I wanted to go back to sleep, but usually after waking up, I stay up. Especially if it's close to the sun rising.
I don't know how I fell back to sleep before, but I'm glad I did.
I needed sleep, even if I'd already gotten a lot of sleep from being in that coma.
Once again, I sit up. What would I do now?
I look over to Loki, who was sleeping peacefully.
His hair was all messed up, and the blankets too.
And my heart was being all weird again.
I didn't like it.
I don't know what's wrong with me.
I should get that checked out, eventually. I mean, there was no reason for my heart to be acting weird.

Slowly, I stand up, and creep around Loki. I make my way over to the door, trying to stay as silent as possible. I didn't want to wake him up, considering he was exhausted last night.
Just before I open the door, to leave, I stop. I hear almost like a cry. I stand still, listening.
I turn around, looking over to Loki. It looked as though he was wincing, perhaps in pain. Except, he was sleeping. He was probably dreaming.
As much as he needed sleep, he was most likely having a nightmare. And considering his memories aren't the brightest, at all, it wasn't something he wanted to see in a dream.
I sigh, walking over to him.
It was still pretty dark, so it was hard for me to see him.
"Loki." I whisper.
He doesn't wake up to the whisper; he was still asleep.
I felt that if I shook him awake, I'd just scare him more.
He was still wincing, from his dream.
"Loki." I whisper, once again. Of course, though, he doesn't hear a whisper.
I tap him, slightly, trying to wake him up.
But the slightest tap wouldn't do anything.
So, I tap him again, but harder this time.
"Loki." I whisper, for the third time.
And like that, his eyes burst open, he sits up, and says, "Stop." In a scared tone.
He must've forgotten where he was, or he just got caught up in the dream.
He blinks a few times, trying to forget the dream I assume. He looks around the room, and finally, turns to me. But he didn't really look confused, he looked terrified. Whatever that dream was, it must've been awful.
"Are you okay?" I ask him, as he realizes it was a dream.
He lets out a sigh, and tries not to look scared, "Of course." He answers.
"Are you sure?" I wonder.
He nods and puts on a smile, "Why would I lie?" He ask, trying to sound cheerful. But he wasn't cheerful, not really. He looked like he was holding back tears.
I could easily try to read his mind, but I wouldn't do that to him. He knew what I was doing the first time I tried to read it. And anyways, whatever this dream was about, he clearly didn't want to speak of it.
"Oh, okay then. I'm sorry I woke you." I say, standing up.
"Where are you going?" He asks, with a mix of confusion and fear to be alone.
"I was going to find something to do to clear my mind." I answer.
"Oh, alright."
"You wanna come with me?" I offer.
"No, thank you. I might go back to sleep."
"Okay, then. See ya later." I smile, before leaving the room.
I close the door, and make my way through the halls. I can easily workout to get my mind off everything, or I could go to the roof.
I wasn't exactly in the mood to go on the roof, though.
Punching things and working out it is, then.

I make my way toward the room that I went to when I first arrived here. I punched a lot of punching bags that day.
I open the door to the room, and shut it behind me.
"You're up early?" I hear someone say.
I jump a bit, startled.
I turn around, and it's just Steve.
"Yeah." I answer.
From what I see, he's been punching that punching bag a lot.
"You can't sleep either?" I ask, putting that weird tape-looking shit on my fist. I didn't bother to find out what it was called, and I don't even know what it does. But it made me look cool.. I think.
Of course, I only needed it on one fist.
"Nope." He answers, punching the bag again.
I walk up to where he stood, "Mind if I.." I say, pointing toward the punching bag.
He moves back a bit, letting me at the punching bag.
And with one punch, with my metal fist obviously, the punching bag goes flying across the room.
"So.." Steve begins, "What's bothering you?"
"What?" I ask, going to hang another punching bag.
"What's bothering you?" He repeats.
"Nothing." I lie.
He chuckles, "You just punched that thing across the room, with one swing. Something's bothering you."
"I dunno, I have a lot of things that I've been thinking about. Too much to talk about."
I swing at the punching bag again, making sure not to let it go flying across the room again.
"Well, I'm not going anywhere. So, tell me, what's one thing that's bothering you?"
I sigh. Really?
"The whole father situation. I don't know what to do about him. I can't even remember him much."
"And punching that.. will help?" He chuckles.
"No, not really. But I could imagine it as his face I guess."
"That's a bit much."
"Probably." I say, not taking my eyes off of the punching bag.
"Okay, well, what else is bothering you? It can't just be that alone." He says, going to hang another punching bag next to mine.
"Nightmares. I get those a lot, which aren't fun."
"And these nightmares, are they about your time with Hydra?"
"Every time." I answer.
"I see. Anything else?"
"Nope.." I lie.
"Really? Come on, there's gotta be another thing that's bothering you."
"Fine. My heart's been acting strange. It keeps beating fast sometimes. I don't know why."
He stops punching the bag, and smirks a bit, "And when does this usually happen?"
"I dunno. Around... people."
"People? Any specifics?"
I shrug, continuing to punch at the punching bag. I didn't take my eyes off of it once.
"Lemme take a guess," he smirks, "Does it happen when you're around people like, I don't know,...Loki?"
Okay, why the hell did my heart just start doing that thing again.
"You know, you're blushing." Steve chuckles
"I'm not. It's just.. hot in here."
"It really isn't."
I sigh, and stop punching the bag, "You were saying? Why does this weird thing keep happening to my heart?" I ask.
"Well, what happens to your heart?"
"It beats fast, almost like I'm nervous, but I'm not. And then my stomach feels strange, like that weird saying of butterflies being in my stomach?"
Steve chuckles, "I think I know what the problem is."
"You do?!" I ask, desperate to know what's causing this.
"Yup."
"Well? What is it?"
"I think, from personal experience.. you're in love." He smiles.
"Love? What? No, I'm not.. I'm not in love with anyone. Your diagnosis is wrong."
"Say what you want, I've had my experience with this sort of thing."
"Oh, really? Who?" I chuckle, trying to take the topic off me.
He smiles, and looks down at the ground, "Her name was Peggy."
"Was? What happened to her?"
"I met her back in the 40's. So, she's... she's dead now."
"Oh, I'm sorry." I say, regretting asking.
"It's fine, really. I've moved on." He claims, but he doesn't look like he moved on.
You know, since he's beating the punching bag to death.
And there it goes, flying across the room.
Yeah, he hasn't moved on. He's heart broken.
Steve clears his throat, and turns back to me, "I still think you're in love." He grins.
"I'm not! I don't.. I don't even know what love really is."
"Yeah? How come?"
"Do I have to answer that?"
Steve sighs, "I guess not."
"I can't even remember what love is like, or how it feels."
Steve nods, trying to think of what to say, "Well, when you start to get nervous around this person, and you get these so called butterflies in your stomach, it could be symptoms of love. If it happens when you catch a glimpse of their eyes, or they touch you in any way, like a hug, you probably are in love with this person."
"And how would I know if this person would love me back?" I ask.
"You don't. Not until you ask them, I guess."
"I still don't think I'm in love." I say.
"We'll see."