Captured // A Winter Soldier Story

chapter two // cold

✮✮

"The wires got the best of him- all that he invested in goes straight to hell."
-Wires by The Neighborhood

✮✮

reyna's point of view

Cold. When I regained consciousness, my first thought was cold.

My eyes shot open and my second thought was bright. It was so bright that I had to close my eyes again for a  moment, ignoring the multicolored spots dancing across the backs of my eyelids. As I struggled to adjust to the lighting, my mind replayed the events of last night; the near-collision with a one-armed soldier, the haunting aura of danger that had engulfed me, the feeling of being tied up and thrown in the back of my own vehicle. Certain points were fuzzy, but I got the general idea -- wherever I was right now, I was in serious trouble.

Hesitantly, I peeled my eyes open a few seconds later and looked around. I saw that I was in a cell, a large, barred window just to my right. I was laying on a slab of concrete jutting out from the wall without any blankets or pillows, and besides the slab, my cell was completely empty. A rotten, moldy smell tinged the air, but I couldn't place where it was coming from. I noticed a few noises coming from down the hallway; I could just make out the sounds of what I thought was scratching, moaning, and heavy footsteps. All signs that I was in a very, very bad place.

But the thing that really caught my eye was the glint of metal across the hall from me.

My captor was standing against the wall opposite my cell, watching me with a gun held loosely against his chest. He wore no mask, and his face was blocked only by a few stray hairs. His eyes were bluer than I remembered, and his jawline was sharp enough to cut glass. But his raw beauty didn't take away the aching pain I still felt in my gut from where he had punched me.

His gaze was somehow more fractured than it had been last night, and he looked even more distant than when I'd first laid eyes on him. I wasn't sure how someone who was standing right beside me could look so far away, but his mind may as well have been in another room with the vacant look he had in his eyes.

He also looked like he was in pain, his downturned lips forming a very slight grimace that'd be hard to notice if you weren't good at discerning emotion from facial expressions. I wondered how he could look so defeated when he'd so easily accomplished his task of capturing me.

I shook my head, breaking my train of thought. I went to sit up and immediately let out a cry when my stomach screamed with pain. My captor stepped forward quickly, approaching the door to my cell, and if I was not mistaken I saw a flash of concern in his eyes before they darkened again. I laid back down, now breathing heavily, and met his gaze.

"Who are you?" I croaked, my throat so dry that it stuck to itself. He appeared taken aback by my question for a moment, but didn't answer, instead taking out a set of keys and opening the door to my cell. It swung open with a loud creak and he stepped inside, stopping just inches from me. My heart threatened to jump out of my chest at his proximity.

"Get up. You're coming with me," he ordered, his voice flat. I noticed he was speaking in English now. I clenched my jaw.

"My stomach hurts from where you punched me," I growled, lowering my gaze and expecting another blow. But the blow never came.

"I said get up."

His voice was strained this time, sounding as though he was on the edge of snapping. I didn't know anything about this man, but he didn't impress me as the type of person who was used to having his orders questioned. My disobedience was likely to earn me a severe punishment.