Date: 2021-05-10 11:32 am (UTC)
helmut: (zemo62)
From: [personal profile] helmut
[ while certainly part of an act, james' size and presence exude precariousness and danger. it's enough to keep zemo's heart beating at a rapid clip, but whether that pounding comes from fear or arousal, it's hard to tell. impossible to pull the two apart now. zemo's not sure he minds.

he's also not sure he minds that james can read this, able to identify the stink of fear on him like a belgian malinois. a barely contained police dog, straining at the end of his leash, jaws snapping just short of zemo's throat.

but while zemo enjoys the rush of adrenaline that accompanies the danger of being throttled, the energy in the room could stand to turn down a degree or two. so he softens his voice, more intent on cutting to the truth rather than rattling it loose from james' mind. ]


Don't I? [ he murmurs, brows raising. ] Just as you don't know anything about me, having read whatever you could find before appearing at my cell. You have me well diagnosed, don't you? Some silver spoon dilettante, mentally and emotionally unstable after the horrors he's wrought in wartime. Unwell, crazy, even. Tell me, do I fit the profile?
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get in loser we're going shopping

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