Narrative
He watches for forty minutes as James gardens, doing a very good job of pretending to ignore Zemo's presence across the street. Like he's unaware of the fact that he's being watched. But Zemo knows better. The super soldier is nothing if not perceptive. The amount of hypervigilance that runs through his veins is either something drilled into him by HYDRA, or a consequence of his time with HYDRA. He's not sure which.
After forty-five minutes of being ignored, Zemo crosses the street, leaning against the fence and watching intently. "You're having a difficult time here." It isn't a question.
The other man glares at him, an all too-familiar gesture, and then he rolls his eyes. "It's hot and I'm busy. What do you want?"
He smiles faintly, amusement glittering in his eyes. "Things don't have to be so difficult all the time, James. They could be made...quite simple."
"Yeah? You got some kind of magic wand I don't know about?" Bucky responds flatly.
Zemo hums. "No. But I do know how to get you out of your head."
He pauses at that, narrowing his eyes at Zemo.
"That is your problem, is it not?" He reaches out, touches Bucky's face tenderly, not all that surprised when the other initially leans into the touch before yanking away like he'd slapped him. So touch starved and so horrified by the craving for it all at once, he thinks, studying him. "So many choices. So many horrors locked in your mind. The chaos of this place forces you to constantly be on guard. Constantly reliving your worst memories and nightmares." He looks toward the house. "Surrounded by people, but you never quite fit anywhere, do you, James?"
"Don't psychoanalyze me," Bucky snaps. "I had a therapist for that."
"Ah, but she never quite got it, did she? She wasn't like you. Or like me. We are two sides of the same coin. You'll see that sooner or later." He smiles softly and then turns, heading back across the street to his house, pleased when he finds the other man still staring at him.
Good. He finally has his attention.