They won't linger in here long. Zemo knows Bucky's aversion to heat... but right now, it's nice enough, especially when he runs cold. He turns his face in towards Bucky's chest to press a soft kiss there, idly, either as a way to buy time or appreciation for joining him in one of the last places Bucky would want to be. Some-- things felt different, but fundamentally? Zemo can't say it's changed too drastically.

"It was nice for a change. A reminder of a life I thought I'd left behind." In multiple ways, with the spouse and everything else.

"I don't like it. I don't know if it was just a bit of unfortunate mischief, but--" He doesn't have to explain the violation, does he? He lets it trail off because he knows Bucky is well aware of the horrors. Waking up to a body that doesn't quite feel like your own anymore, with no knowledge of how or why.

"... So we try to find who did it and why." At the moment, Zemo would rather have some revenge for that first. Or at least a question or two answered.

"Although we may run into your friends along the way. I'm not-- sure they will let you stay with a wanted terrorist and not check up on you, James." There's a wry smile.

"I don't suppose I could pass for your displaced Sokovian wife? Or American. I am not terrible at accents." There's no chance. As different as he may seem, he's familiar enough under all the softer features and longer hair.