He frowns visibly and then, after a moments indecision, slips the shiv away into his belt.
"You shouldn't." and that's what the Soldier believes, that he isn't trustworthy, that he barely knows who he is to trust. There was only Steve's words and faith and the inscription on a museum wall for him to go by and whoever James Barnes was it isn't who the Soldier is. He can't even think of himself by the name of his past yet.
The distance between them is finally closed to what normal people would probably consider a conversational closeness. "Do you want to sit down first?" Removing the knife is going to hurt a lot.
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"You shouldn't." and that's what the Soldier believes, that he isn't trustworthy, that he barely knows who he is to trust. There was only Steve's words and faith and the inscription on a museum wall for him to go by and whoever James Barnes was it isn't who the Soldier is. He can't even think of himself by the name of his past yet.
The distance between them is finally closed to what normal people would probably consider a conversational closeness. "Do you want to sit down first?" Removing the knife is going to hurt a lot.