14 || oh, to forget

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He used to call me DNThat stood for deadly nightshade'Cause I was filled with poisonBut blessed with beauty and rage-Ultraviolence, Lana Del Ray

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He used to call me DN
That stood for deadly nightshade
'Cause I was filled with poison
But blessed with beauty and rage
-Ultraviolence, Lana Del Ray

He used to call me DNThat stood for deadly nightshade'Cause I was filled with poisonBut blessed with beauty and rage-Ultraviolence, Lana Del Ray

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

April 17th 2011
Siberia, Russia

Ten years. Almost ten years since Julia Johnson disappeared off the face of the Earth. Nine years and eleven months, if you want to be specific.

Four years at HYDRA. Four years and I haven't seen him. When I first arrived here, I'd been on edge, constantly expecting to see him around every corner- he does work for HYDRA after all. Now though, I'd almost forgotten who I used to be, those memories are just glimpses of a past life.

So, as I'm escorted down the corridor by four or five guards, on my way to train, his blonde hair and aggravatingly charming smile are the last things I expect to see coming down the corridor. He, Pierce, and a group of other men- a few of whom I've seen around the base before-  stumble down the large hallway, all laughing and talking loudly. Most of them clutch bottles of some form of liqueur, which is evidently depleted.

Nikolay. Dad.

As they get closer, his eyes settle on me and he studies my features, a hint of recognition on his face. Quickly, I drop my head down in an attempt to avoid any attention from him, though he doesn't move his gaze.

The rest of them keep walking past me, but he comes to a stop, his lips parted slightly and his eyes narrowed. Neither Pierce nor his friends notice that he's stopped and keep going down the corridor until they're out of sight. I, along with my guards, continue past him, in the direction of the training room, until he calls out.

"Julya?", I continue walking, "Wait.". The guards come to a stop and when I don't, they grab onto me harshly; he rushes over to us, an odd rhythm in his steps, "Leave us.", he dismisses the guards.

"But Mr. Popov we're under direct o-", one of the guards begins to argue.

"Now you're under direct orders from me. Leave us be.", he cuts the guard off. All of the guards exchange confused and worried looks but swiftly scatter, leaving the two of us alone in the corridor. "Julya, what are you doing here?", he asks.

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