I soon had to face the issues i would have though.
At the restauraunt everyone called me ‘Bambi’ or ‘blondie’ i didnt know what to do of this and it didnt help when a cowoker explained by showing me a picture of a deer calf with big brown eyes - i reckoned it was that though.
That day when i returned i tried to find out something they could call me.
Something that wasnt my asset title - i barely remembered it. A-something- followed by 4 or 5 digits and a letter more somewhere.
This made me realize
We didn’t have names in any way.
If we had to get the others attention it most would end up with hey, you, look, pointing and grunting.
When i unlocked the door and set down our food with a dull sound that still was a little loud, mostly because i practically just dropped it on the counter.
He looked and came out of the bathroom putting the gun away, furrowing his brows
,,names.’’ he tilted his head weakly
,,i need a name. We both need names. They will grow suspicious in not so long.’’
,,i at very least need one’’ i continued as he looked at me, walked over to me and looked me up and down - he gave a court nod
,,Nikov’’ this time i looked at him with a tilted head but rolled my eyes when i somehow remembered the first digits; A-13…
,,Nikov.’’ I knitted my brows together and he nodded and i leaned against the counter, short for kalashnikov he had said
,,but what do i call you?’’ he glanced at me displeased before pulling out his notebook, frantically running through the pages until he stopped, his eyes resting on something on the page
His glance drifted to the side - he was somewhere else now
As his eyes fixated back on me he closed the book and nodded slowly to himself
,,Bucky.’’ something about him saying this made me go cold, his sharp glare and the tone of his voice.
The word hang in the air - something vague but also defying, he retained a part of himself.