James blinks down at her, thrown off by the delight in her expression. No one is ever happy to see the Soldier. Not after everything he has done ... what Pierce made him do ... what he never questioned, until a few weeks ago ...
The girl reins in her wide grin and does her own scan of the crowd. "Don't worry, I won't tell. People can't handle the truth. But I can. "She turns her shining eyes back to the Soldier. "Do you want a hair tie? I think blue is more your color, like your eyes. And you do have nice eyes."
At first, he didn't know what to do. Her kindness was strange, alien ... but in a good way. He didn't want it to go away; he didn't want to frighten her off. Slowly, very slowly, the Soldier reaches out with his real hand, one of the hands that have broken, maimed, strangled, shot, stabbed, and ripped apart human flesh. Without talking her eyes off him, the girl rolls a bright navy blue one out of the rainbow and hands it over.
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