Eye contact is hard, sorry man. He's still half turned away, and it was never exactly encouraged at HYDRA to look your handlers in the eye. (Also tended to lead to him trying to attack said handlers, which was another reason to learn not to do it, given the punishments for that sort of thing.) The best Steve is going to get there is looking at his eyes, which are kind of focused sidelong on Steve's shoulder.
For a moment there's a frown of confusion. The American never had the Book. (What book.) The Americans never used the Words. (What words.) But the stupid goddamn target-- Steve-- Captain America-- knows the Words. Trigger words. He has. Trigger.
He loses pretty much everything else Steve says at the sudden overwhelming taste of rubber on his tongue, the on-fire after-twitches of a wipe, the confinement of restraints on both arms, emptiness and fear choking him-- a word, the feeling of something slotting into place painfully in his brain. He can't hear it. He can't tell what it is, he can't tell what it's doing, but it hurts and it's changing him and there's screaming somewhere deep inside and--
His brain recognizes it. He has trigger words. He has.
The frown turns into full-on terror and he crumples against the bookshelf he'd just lopped the corner off of with a hoarse scream, both hands at his head. So not restrained, now, but the feeling is still there, it's always going to be there, they're always going to be there--
He's completely forgotten Steve's standing there trying to talk.
cw: flashback + panic attack, sorry Steve
For a moment there's a frown of confusion. The American never had the Book. (What book.) The Americans never used the Words. (What words.) But the stupid goddamn target-- Steve-- Captain America-- knows the Words. Trigger words. He has. Trigger.
He loses pretty much everything else Steve says at the sudden overwhelming taste of rubber on his tongue, the on-fire after-twitches of a wipe, the confinement of restraints on both arms, emptiness and fear choking him-- a word, the feeling of something slotting into place painfully in his brain. He can't hear it. He can't tell what it is, he can't tell what it's doing, but it hurts and it's changing him and there's screaming somewhere deep inside and--
His brain recognizes it. He has trigger words. He has.
The frown turns into full-on terror and he crumples against the bookshelf he'd just lopped the corner off of with a hoarse scream, both hands at his head. So not restrained, now, but the feeling is still there, it's always going to be there, they're always going to be there--
He's completely forgotten Steve's standing there trying to talk.