#when has he ever in his life seen a detail he didnt dwell on

[indieninja92]

victor r u feeling ok babe? you barely touched ur details 😢

#les mis #les miserables #victor hugo #when has he ever in his life seen a detail he didnt dwell on #passing rapidly over the details???? not my vicky hugs

[thorsstorms]

The Bestfriend

Winter Soldier/James x Reader (soulmate AU)

She thought she had grown out of her night mares, until she has another years later, and she remembers it this time in vivid detail. The heartbreaking sounds of a man in pain. Her soulmate was not what she expected, but shared dreams means they are your soulmate, right? She was going to love him no matter what.

Warnings: Shit ton of angst and worry.

Marvel Masterlist

The Bestfriend

She stared at the TV screen on her floors’ lobby wall, watching it with peeled eyes just as a few coworkers next to her were. It was only a normal morning, they all start the same. But what kind of morning is it ever when something like this happens. Not to compare it to 9/11 but.. That was also a very normal morning. No one expects to be bombed while enjoying the start their morning. Especially not congressmen and women, leaders from around the world, and her own boss.

She could not think straight, watching as they covered what happened only minutes ago.

“Has anyone heard from Mr. Stark?” She hears someone ask from behind her. Mumbles were there in reply but she turned away from the screen and strutted straight back into her office, shutting the door behind her. It was alarming. What if the tower was next? Who was one to know?

She called Peppers’ cellphone with the land line sitting on her desk. It rings and rings as she taps on the desk nervously. Of course Pepper does not answer, to her own dismay. It was silly to think she would.

She left the tower, rushing the entire way home. She really just wanted to be in her safe space. Her apartment was cozy, nothing bad can happen within her walls, surely. Besides, she could do her own work at home. All she needed was her laptop and cell phone. Emails were easy to handle. The only reason she got her own office in the first place was because Mr. Stark, now just Tony to her, was asking for special favors that were not in her job description. There were little things… purchases, meetings, deliveries that he didn't want Pepper to worry about. Ahem, know about, so she did a little black mail. She was so sick of her little cubicle. She found it unnecessary if she could do it from home but her boss wanted her there, so she never complained. The office was such an upgrade though. The view, the large oak desk and the couch. Not to mention the wall of her own books and items of her own pleasure. The third coziest place to her. The second being her own apartment; the first is an almost forgotten dreamscape garden with her favorite person in the world.

She still considers her special James as her favorite person, despite the feeling of abandonment. She tried not to dwell on it anymore. She liked to pretend he was out there living his life happy without her, not bearing to think about an alternative.

She left messages for both Tony and Pepper saying that she went home, as well as over two thirds of the building. If they needed her for dealing with PR they knew they could just call, but until then she would be doing her work from home.

The TV got turned on after she settled herself on the couch. Her phone was eerily silent on the end table, everything felt eerily silent. The TV was her choice of background noise while she wrapped a blanket around her and opened her laptop knowing that she was going to be more than busy with Tony’s emails, considering.

~

“Yes, I’m fine Mom. I left the tower a few hours ago, right after it happened.” Her family knew where she worked, of course. Doing her own work became increasingly harder to do when calls and texts started to flood in as the news spread, all to make sure she was okay. She closed her own eyes and laid her head on the back of the couch. Overwhelmed was an understatement.

She listened to the ramblings of a protective, yet loving mother. She was always so worried for her daughters’ safety. Especially with no one else to keep an eye on her.

It seems like everytime she gets out or scrolls social media there was another couple. An engagement, a pregnancy, a new house together. Everyone is finding their soulmates while she gets to watch. Everything was happening around her and she was just there, along for the ride. Nothing exciting ever happened.

Times like these her mother wished her daughter could find her soulmate sooner than later. Her mother was clueless as to her daughters knowledge of her own solmate, or even her lack of knowledge on her soulmate.

He’ll show up, she tells herself every night.

“The bomber has been identified as James Barnes, also known as the Winter Soldier.”  

The world freezes as she stares at the screen. A close up shot of a masked man.

It couldn't be.

She feels her heart ache, tear in two with hope that he’s alive and fear that he’s alive.

They’ve made a mistake, she thinks.

“No, no.” She whispers to herself. The call was long forgotten and ended with automatic fingers. She covers her mouth as she watches the screen begging it for more information, but not much was given. Other then, “orders to shoot on site.”

She doesn’t hear herself as she cries into her hands, but feels the lump of fear try to morph into a feeling of relief that he was alive. She feels frantic. He’s so close to her. She may be in New York, but he was not too far. D.C. is not too far.

He’s real.

She doesn’t think as she dials Tony’s number again. He has to do something. She’s going to tell him that James is her soul mate. The dial tone ends and she clips the call off knowing he’ll never listen to a voice message. She types a sloppy text, fingers too shakey but way to urgent to fix it.

“Tony plese call me i saw the news you cant let them kill james hes my soulmte i promise ill explain bt dnt let htem. You have to do soemting”

“Tony pleae call me”

“You cant let them sget him first.”

He never texts her back. It’s horrible, he probably thinks she is crazy and she just knows he won’t understand. She can’t bring herself to eat. Or sleep, as much as she wants to sleep and get away from this mess.

~

It’s been two days and there has been silence on her end. The news has nothing new. There is know way to contact Tony, she’s tried everything. Building the courage to clean herself up a little and do something productive was not an easy task to accomplish so soon.

She moped around the apartment, not bearing to even look in the direction of her bedside table where a stack of dream journals lie. She knows what is in them. Her life with James was articulated on every page, ink covering every square inch, front and back. She can't look at them knowing that it could have all been for nothing.

It could never be for nothing, she would never regret what she feels for her James. Her James didn't do this, he could not have.

Her james was kind, and gentle with everything he touches. His fingers picking up a small pink Peonie and resting it on the table. Pink was his favorite. Her James was a curious soul, he always wanted to know more, even if he didnt vocalize it. She could see it in his eyes. Her James was full of life. He was trusting and showed his emotions through actions. She read him like a book.

Her James could not be this man they charge with killing the King of Wakanda. She doesn’t believe it for a second.  

A knock on the apartment door knocked her from wallowing and from the hole she was slowly digging her emotions into. She was sure she was at the stage of anger. How could anyone think of her James to be so cruel?

She quickly got dressed and walked to the door while  squeezing her hair dry from a shower. The persistent knocking continued until she whipped the door open, displaying her irritation. It was wiped quickly when she came face to face with Captain Rogers staring her down. She stiffened as the man stepped forward into her apartment, she backed up from him not protesting. He looks behind him, checking the halls right and left before shutting the door and locking it, turning to her.

She was tense, her face going pale by the look on his face.

Tony must’ve told him, and now Captain Rogers was here to get information so he could hunt down James and be the one to kill him himself.

“How do you know Bucky?” His voice commanded an answer.

“Who?” She asks, lowering her shoulders in confusion.

“Tony said you know him. Did Tony lie?” His tone was stern, giving no room for contemplation.

“James?” She tried to conceal how breathless her voice is. She doesn't want him to get hurt but honestly, Rogers was definitely scaring her.

“I- I don't, I. It wasn't him.” She mutters quickly. She is not sure how to go about this but knows she doesn't want to be the reason her James ends up with a bullet hole through his head. “He wouldn't do that. He’s not the Winter Soldier or whatever they are calling him. He-He just wouldn't do this! You have to believe me!”

She could feel tears welling in her eyes. She was not keen on confrontation, especially with someone that has such a demeaning presence but she would do anything to stand up for her James. If that means powering through and defying orders then she would gladly keep her lips sealed.

“I do believe you.”

“I promise that isn’t him- what?” He believes her?

“Just tell me how you think you know him!” Steve was close to losing his patience on this girl, raising his voice.

“He- I know him from my dreams. He’s my soulmate, we share dreams.” She rambles still stuck on the fact that he believes her. If he believes her then he might not want to hurt him, right? “I promise I don't know anything. I haven’t seen him in almost a year. He never let me ask about him. He didn't like talking about it. Really I don't know anything. But I promise you that James wouldn't have done this.”

She finishes trying to catch her breath.

“I’m going to find him.” Steve says. It’s final, she can hear it in his conviction.

“No, no, please,” She begs him, her heart thrown out the window and all sensible thought didn't make sense anymore. “Please they have the wrong person. James is good, he is kind. He loves me, I know he does.”

She feels a tear slip but she doesn't pay any mind to it. She was not letting Captain Rogers leave here without being convinced. He can't hurt James, he just can’t.

“He’s been hurt and there are bad people that have hurt him but he doesn't deserve to be framed for this. I don't know what he’s been through but I can only imagine. Captain,” She pleads, “if you could have seen him the first time I found him. He was screaming, for ages. Every night he was so terrified of something but I don't know what it was. They've done something bad to him but he’s escaped from them. He escaped the darkness.” She cries, ready to beg at her knees.

She is so consumed with convincing the man before her that she doesn't notice his own reaction to her words. How would it feel to hear that his best friend tortures himself with nightmares every night? Has been hurting for decades with no one to help him?

His eyes water at the thought but pushes it away. Steve reaches for her arms, but she flinches away from him, rocketing to the other side of the room.

Steve’s hands shoot in front of him to show that he earns no harm to her, his brow furrowing at the fact that she was scared of him, “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I won’t let anyone hurt him,” he assures her.

She calms, wiping her face and clasping her shaking hands behind her back. Who was she to argue with his declaration to keep her James safe.

“I don’t understand, Captain Rogers.” She mutters but he hears her loud and clear.

“He’s my best friend.” He takes a few steps closer to her, showing his hands in submission. He wasn't going to hurt her. “From before I went in the ice, he’s been my best friend since we were young. I dont- I dont know whats happening or why he’s still alive, I’ve run into him before. Hydra has done something to him. But I’m going to get him back.”

“Hydra?” She asks, her face darkening in confusion. “Is, is that what the darkness is called?”

“I assume so. I get it, when I find him, you will be the first to know.” He watches her face brighten up, a small twitch of her lips at the thought of seeing him in person. Alive and hopefully, well. “And please, call me Steve.”

Steve does not stay much longer with her. She has a number to contact him and vise versa but he leaves without giving her much more information. How cruel is it to turn this into a waiting game?

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #marvel masterlist #Steve rogers

[starrystellars]

even the spiders dance | one-shot

a/n: hello!! i decided to write something for my baby natasha since no one ever really looks back at her and whatever she has been thru. i felt like i needed to study her a little bit more and do justice for her since mcu is unable to fucking do so. i didnt proof-read bc english aint my first language so there's no point anyway hhhh i’ll might make a part two but i’ll see how well this is received. anyways!! hopefully yall like this and drop a like and comment if u please

synopsis: natasha tries to get rid of her traumatic past by making something sad into something beautiful. she ends up falling in love with a hip hop dance teacher instead. | fem! reader

warnings: mentions of past trauma (ptsd), overly cheesy writing

word count: 4,7100

New York’s hazy morning breeze was a welcomed refresher against Natasha’s pale skin, slowly peeling off the worries of the past couple of nights. The early morning sun was almost blinding to a naked eye, especially after a long night spent indoors with the lights off, loud bird chirping ticking her off more than usual. Spring was physically knocking on the city’s doorsteps, but unlike every other person in the Big Apple, the redhead didn’t seem to be ready to give up on the winter’s presence just yet. To someone who was raised in the middle of a cold Russia, warmth was something that felt incredibly unfamiliar, and even after years living in a bustling city, she really never felt at home with the sun tickling the tip of her pointy nose.

Natasha had always been a pretty private person, and even after moving into the tower with the rest of the Avengers, she hadn’t seemed to give up on her habits. As someone who was raised to become a fearless killer, she couldn’t just slip up and let her guard down, even when she did consider the people around her to be more or less a family. Kind smiles and banter with the people she lived with was indeed like a soothing balm over her past traumas, but healing was a marathon, not a spurt, which she knew better than one could think of. The assassin was somewhat in peace with her journey, but those past days she had been getting the short end of the stick; dwelling in screeching nightmares that left her sheets sticky, and occasional moments of anxiety that seemed to attack her out of blue. She, like most of her teammates, was haunted by the things she had seen, but other than the people around her, Natasha was the best at hiding it. Red Room training was brutal, but it was something that was almost impossible to shake off. If you learn something by birth, you don’t know any better — at least that’s what she tried to tell herself over and over again, to justify the fact that she couldn’t just let other people in. Even with her unavailability of trusting others, she had slowly tried to take part of the team, even when they were baby steps. After releasing SHIELD’s intel online, she had found herself hanging out more with the people she shared her living quarters with. Wilson and Rogers were one of the people she was tied to the most, leading up to her going all the way to her sparring with those hunky boys every once in a while. For her, training had always been a private moment of the day, but Natasha couldn’t help but to notice how she had grown to love early morning jogs around the closest park to the Avengers tower with the bunch. They made her feel whole and in peace with herself, even when it was almost impossible to keep up with the serum-infused Captain, who left Sam and her bite dust every single time.

"Romanoff, you good?" The Falcon was trying to catch his breath, after both of them had finished up those ten laps around the greenery. Steve, who looked like he didn't even break a sweat during training, perked up his head upon hearing the pair, cocking eyebrows questioningly. The redhead wasn't sure how the Sam had noticed her changed behavior, but at the end of the day, they spent a good amount of time with each other. "Yeah, just a little rusty, I guess," a little smirk grew on her lips, as she shook her head ever so slightly, while trying to calm down the rapid breathing that was caught in her throat. A highly skilled spy or not, even she had hard times catching up after running like a headless chicken. "Black Widow? Rusty? Unheard of," Sam laughed while showing off a perfect row of pearly white teeth, leaning forward to place his hands on those thick thighs of his, still pretty much out of breath. It was a funny sight to see the taller man drenched in sweat, grey sweatshirt looking like it had just came out of the wash, as he tried his best not to fall on the ground thanks to his shaking legs. "It's true. I haven't seen you like this since the day you spilled all of your secrets to the world," Steve finally spoke up, as he took a couple of steps forward towards the two. His laid back attitude was a refreshing look, since the super soldier was known for being pretty uptight at times. "What's wrong?" Natasha let out a deep sigh, placing hands on her hips, as she looked at both of the men in front of her with blank eyes. Over the years, she had learned how to disguise emotions pretty well, and this time it was no exception. For her, there was nothing more scarier than let others know how she really felt like, and being cornered like that wasn't ideal. Her walls were high and mighty, however, they were on a shaky ground. "Let's just say that avenging has been a pain in the ass lately," Natasha gave an empty smirk at both of them, not even trying bothering to explain. If the two would be smart, they'd leave her alone. "If that's the case, why don't you just do something else for change? Like, I don't know, learn how to cook or something?" The Falcon finally stretched to his full height, shrugging his shoulders, after letting out the words flow into the thin air. "You think I don't know how to cook? How cute of you, Wilson," Natasha flashed a sassy smile towards the soldier, who didn't seem to be bothered by the cocky attitude. Their banter had always been like that, acting out as a competition who could jab at the other one the hardest, and it seemed to work better than well. "I'm not just a pretty face." "Sam has a point. Maybe there is something that you like to do?" Steve butted into the conversation, getting both of their attentions quite fast. "The world has been actually quite a decent place for a change; perhaps you can take a day or two off. Just saying." Natasha was about to let out a snarky comment towards the Captain, who definitely didn't seem to take a day off, but decided to keep her mouth shut for once in her life. There was a moment where she was seriously considering to mention how her life revolved around work, just to keep them off her back, but something she had tried to keep away from her, struck her like a lightning. Maybe there was something that could help her, after all. **** The music was booming behind closed doors, multiple different sounds overlapping with each other, creating a wave of mess that was hard to listen. A faint sound of an overly positive voice was bouncing off the walls, making all the ears ring in the near mile radius, and Natasha couldn't help but to cringe as she got closer to the wooden front desk of a sleek entrance hall. All the noise in the room was overpowering, and the redhead was highly considering turning around on her heels, and walking away. Yes, she had listened to the only people she was close with, only to realise, that maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all. The morning Sam had gave her the idea, it had sounded like a good plan, but at that point, she wasn't so sure anymore.

Dancing. Red Room was known for its brutal training programme that was dedicated to shape young minds to become trainwrecks. It was all about discipline and rules, brutal force and violence, but somehow it felt like a distant home for her. Ignoring all the grim details, it was a place where she grew up to become her, even when the rest of the world would see her as a monster. One of the main programmes was dancing, which was no surprise; it was highly believed in Russia, that this form of art was one of the top levels of strong individualism, since the training was more than physically damaging. Red Room or not, most of the girls in normal dancing schools were emotionally fucked up and dropped out after a couple of years. Natasha had witnessed some of that treatment around her childhood, but nothing could ever top the way she was brought up. Regardless, she found peace in dancing. Before she had joined the Avengers team, it was the only way for her to let out some steam, alongside of fighting, to take away all the stress that was pending up deep inside of her. She loved the way her body would effortlessly find its way to form a perfect attitude terriére, or how the music would flow through her body like it was taking over every cell of her firm form. There was no pain nor suffering, just a calm mindset and happiness within. However, she wasn't sure was singing up to a dancing school actually worth it. Yes, she could've easily used the Avengers gym to train her 'rusty' moves. She was also completely aware of the fact that she indeed could've asked Tony to make her a completely space, just for the matter, but somehow she needed to feel normal. Even when she had deep scars running down her soul, especially ones that were attached to the act of art, she couldn't help but to crave normal human functions, even when pretty much the whole world knew she was nothing more than trouble. Being around other people was also a good way for her to separate her old dance training from her future; she truly hoped to get rid of all the flashbacks that were bothering her daily. The cold walls of the Avengers tower barely resembled the peeling wallpaper and the poking foundations of the place she used to call home, but the empty atmosphere was enough to send her on the edge during the darkest of hours. If she could just move on amongst everyone else, she could probably get her privacy back. "Hi, how can I help ya, miss?" The cheery voice of a service desk person was purely artificial, and Natasha wanted to scoff at the smile that was almost as tight as the girl's ponytail. However, she forced a mirroring smile on her painted lips, fingers automatically reaching for the strap of her gym bag as a habit. "I called in a couple of days before for the dance studio rental; it was supposed to be at three today. The name is Natasha," the redhead followed closely as the service person went through a thick calendar that looked like it was about to fall apart any second, thanks to all the added post-it notes and clips. It didn't take a too long for her to find the booking amongst all the mess, and Natasha was soon met with another blinding smile. "Oh, yeah! For an hour, right? Just go to the end of that hallway. Your room is number eight and the room door should be unlocked," the woman said, before continuing. "If you need any help with the audio equipment, just come here and I'll be happy to assist you!" Without saying anything further, Natasha turned around to face the corridor that service lady had pointed at, heading down the brightly lit hallway with a curious look on her face. She tried her best to map out the building, just in case of an emergency. It had became a habit for her, and no wonder, taking mind her profession. Better to be safe than sound, right? The short corridor was filled with room after another, each one having a small window to peek in, and the woman couldn't help but to curiously take a look inside of each and every one of them, while she kept her steady pace forward. It wasn't a long trip behind the door that had a big "8" painted on it, and Natasha automatically rested her hand on the handle, as her green eyes found their way to look inside of the window that was radiating with yellow light. Someone was in there. Natasha pulled out her phone with a confused look painted on her features, as she checked the clock on the bright screen. It was already past the time she was supposed to be there, and she couldn't help but to double check the number on the door -- not that it was hard to miss, anyway. Fixing her gaze back up, she tried to see anyone inside. The window was small, and it pretty much covered most of the area, so it was almost impossible to see more than just a small strip of the room. So far, no one had entered her field of vision, so she wasn't sure was it a good idea to just burst in there if someone was still finishing up their workout. Natasha herself hated to be surprised like that, and she surely wasn't going to do that to another person, at least not in a situation where that kind of an element wasn't needed. She was about to give up and go back to the reception, before something, or more likely, someone, entered her view. The urban music, that was barely audible through the door, matched her sharp and clear moves, and the flow of her body was almost intoxicating to look at. How the person carried herself exuded confidence, and there was not a single flaw in her performance. The girl on the other side of the door was skilled, and Natasha couldn't help but to feel extremely fascinated. It was a new feeling; something that she hadn't been thinking about so much before, but she couldn't help but to dwell in it. The whole situation was so weird to her, and she wasn't sure how to act. On top of her confused feelings, the redhead had no interest in the hip hop culture, not even when Sam tried his hardest to get her hyped to some old classics, but seeing the girl dance to the beat of the music that she couldn't really figure out, she regretted her past actions and kicked herself mentally. Her hand was hovering over the handle, like she wasn't sure what to do. Of course, she could've went in and mentioned how the time other girl's time was up; it would've been a completely normal thing. She had been fighting against criminals of different kinds, so acting up wasn't completely out of character for her. However somehow, entering the room seemed like a bigger task than hunting down the whole HYDRA -- but something was supposed to be done. Yes, she was an agent, but goddamn, hanging out in a corridor just staring at an unknown person was way too much, even for her. That's why she had to make a decision to push the handle down and enter the room. There was an instant welcome of heavy urban music, which made Natasha's ears ring. The heavy air, that was caused by a lot of movement was almost choking, but the redhead didn't seem to mind. Her twinkling green eyes were fixed to the person, whose back was towards the door, unaware of the situation that was unraveling behind her thanks to the loud music. She was clearly packing her stuff into a black duffle bag, almost identical to Natasha's own, and the infamous Black Widow couldn't help but to let a slight smirk rise on her lips. Suddenly the whole room went silent, as the unfamiliar person stretched to her full height, and finally turned around to face Natasha. "Shit!" You let a loud yell escape between your lips to the sight of an unfamiliar figure at the door. The jumpscare made you almost drop everything that you were holding in your hands, including the phone you had just pulled out to check the notifications. The woman at the door could do nothing else than smirk at you, and to be honest, it would've been an understatement to say that you were embarrassed. "Sorry about that," the husky voice of the newcomer sent shivers down your spine, and you really weren't sure should you be afraid or not. There was something eerily familiar with the figure and the outline of that woman's face, but you just couldn't point out who she was. "The door was unlocked, and I thought it was good to let you know the time's up." You were hyper-aware that you were late; you kind of always were. It was a bad habit, and not something you were really proud of - especially since you had classes to teach and you really didn't want to take the minutes away from your students. Time flies when you're focused, and that truly was the case that day too. On top of that, no one really tended to rent that part of the studio anyway, so you were pretty much safe being tardy for a couple of minutes. "It's okay, it's my fault anyways," you let out a huff, and even when you felt a slight heat rising on your cheeks, little did you know how that small gesture almost melted the person that was standing on the other side of the room. If there was a word for Natasha's feelings, it would've been whipped. "I probably should start carrying a watch or something," you added, shrugging your shoulders as you took a step closer to the woman, whose delicate features made you easily swoon. There was a certain cold look on her pale face, but you could see clearly how soft her gaze was, and you swore there was more to her than just the front she put. "Are you new here? I haven't seen you before, and I pretty much know everyone who hangs around the studio," there was a slight giggle that escaped between your lips, as you studied the woman, whose expression clearly didn't even flinch. You got lost in those big, emerald green, eyes that seemed to be alert in a way, but you insisted to yourself that it was a good idea to poke the sleeping bear bit more. "None of my students sneak around to scare me, so I thought I should ask." "Yeah, I've started to rent this studio for now," Natasha wasn't sure how much to reveal to the girl, but since the other person sounded eager enough, it was her time to open up a bit. For her, it almost felt like a breath of fresh air to chat normally, without having to stay on her toes, but it did take a toll on her in a way. Old habits stuck hard, and past Natasha wasn't about chatting and being fun. She meant business, but she desperately wanted to let her go, and maybe meeting new people was a good way to at least try. There was no way a stranger could be dangerous to her, especially in a place like this. Especially a girl like her. "My skills are a little rusty, so I thought about getting my game back on. It's been a while I've put on my pointe shoes," a slight smile rose on her painted lips, as she cocked her head to the side, ever so slightly. The assassin couldn't help but to keep her eyes fixed directly to the girl, taking in her beautiful features that kept on mesmerizing her. Just right before, she had been fierce and strong, but the version that was standing right in front of her at that moment was even more breathtaking. "Wait, you're a ballet dancer?" The girl questioned, raising her eyebrows so high they could've easily creeped up to her hairline. That got a giggle out of Natasha, who couldn't help but to find the gesture adorable. "I guess I am," she answered to the girl, who took a couple of quick steps, right to her face, toes close, barely touching Natasha's. The redhead almost flinched by default, ready for an attack, but she kept her cool better than expected. "You need to teach me! Most of the people in here only know modern or hip hop, and I'm so happy to find someone who is good on the classical side!" You couldn't help but to squeal, smiling so bright that you were afraid you'd look crazy in front of her. Somehow, the woman nodded collectively, a smirk on her full lips, and you felt like you had made a friend after all. "Or if you'd like, just drop by my class someday! I know, I know, hip hop dancing is mainstream and everyone does it, but if you're interested, there's always space for a one more person," the girl looked more than happy to share the invitation with Natasha, and the redhead couldn't do anything else than adore her pure intent. It had been such a long time since the assassin had witnessed anyone be so lighthearted and gleeful, that she had to wonder was it all just a good dream. Maybe she was still in her bed, dreaming about a future she couldn't have, but after considering pinching herself, she got to understand it was truly a reality for her. "I'd love to," the words escaped between Natasha's lips before she was able to catch them, and before she could even regret what she had done, the sparkling eyes of the girl caught her off guard. It was almost like a magical moment, them looking at each other, and Natasha couldn't shake off the warmth in her chest that was gradually growing and spreading across her body. Finally, after years, she felt like warmth was home. "That's glad to hear! I'll be here every day in the class next door, so pop in whenever you want to. I better get running now, so I hope to see you someday!" You felt awful having to part with your newly found relationship, but you were running late once again, and couldn't risk getting kicked out of the dancing school. It was bittersweet, but there was a hope growing inside of you that you'd meet her again. **** It took a five-day wait to meet up with the woman you had seen in your usual training hall. Yes, you clearly counted, and wished every single day that she would pop into your class to even say a simple 'hey'. Maybe it was too much from you, to act like you had actually bonded with the woman in a short span of a couple of minutes, but something inside of you told that you'd most likely would see her again. Everytime the class door would open, your eyes would shoot up to see if she would strut inside, wearing those gorgeous black training clothes she was wearing the last time you saw her, but that never happened- until one beautiful Wednesday day. She was standing in the middle of the empty training studio, hands loosely resting on her hips, green eyes searching the room like it was the eighth wonder of the world. Soft sunrays that were peeking through the light curtains bounced on her skin, making it seem like she was glowing like an angel. She was not facing you, but you could study her side profile like one would do in a museum, mapping out the details of her features. The all-black attire complimented her shape perfectly, and you couldn't help but to catch yourself staring at her with a big smile on your lips. "This room is so much better than the one that I'm using," there was a soft smirk lingering on her lips as you took a step closer, as you lowered the duffel bag on your shoulder to the ground. The redhead took a peek at you over her shoulder, finally facing you fully. There was a moment of silence, as you both just looked at each other, but to your surprise, it was comfortable and understanding. Just like it was meant to be. "Thanks. I mean, bad for you, but it's nice to hear that," you started blabbering, but the blessing laugh that was let out by the other woman was so intoxicating, that you forgot how awkward you must have looked like. "So you finally decided to pop in to learn some moves?" "No, unfortunately I have a job to do. I just thought that I should drop by to give you these headphones that I found from the corner of the room after you left last Friday," the woman said sheepishly, and you couldn't help but to feel a little disappointed. You truly had too high hopes for seeing her again, especially in your own class, but you managed to let a smile crown your lips. The woman took a step closer to you, pulling out neatly wrapped headphones from her black gym jacket, holding them out towards you. "I kind of figured they're yours. If not, then enjoy a free pair," the redhead grinned, tilting her head in an adorable manner. You grabbed them from her small hands, brushing over the soft skin, trying your hardest not to seem like a creep. She just gently smiled at you, piercing green eyes soft as ever, and you swore you could have melted right then and there under her gaze. The slight moment in between the both of you was soon to be broken by the heavy door opening right behind you. Both of you turned to look at the person who entered, who was one of your best students, whose face clearly flashed to deep red as she laid her gaze on both of you. She was seemingly confused, pacing back and forth at the door, before leaving without saying a word. The redhead gave out a slight chuckle, as she turned to look at you the last time. "I guess it's my time to go. Duty calls," those spoken words were soft, almost like a whisper in your ears, and you wanted to savor them until the end. The woman took a couple of steps closer to the door, smoothly passing you by as she went on with her saying. "Your students are starting to come in anyways." "Will I see you again?" Maybe the words you spoke out were desperate at best, and maybe you shouldn't have said them at the end of the day. However, you saw the mysterious woman hovering her hand over the handle of the door, like thinking about something, and you could feel the heartbeat in your chest grow rapidly. A moment of silence, before there was another line let out in the heavy air of the room. "Maybe." The one word was more than enough to give you hope for the upcoming. It was like a bright light that kept on giving you energy on a dark day. Maybe you were being a little way too melodramatic, but you just knew, she was going to turn your life upside down; no matter good or bad. There was no promise made, no nothing, but you felt like that one word itself was a silent way of saying how she would come around- and you were ready to give her all the time she needed. With silent smiles, you finally parted ways, and as the redhead merely had escaped the room, couple of your students bursted into your class. The whole situation was so chaotic; people talking over each other, no one making any sense whatsoever. A confused look was present on your face, as you tried to make everyone calm down and get some sense out of the people that had entered the room. It took a good while to get the people simmer down, as you turned to look at one of your students with a gaze that was more weirded out than ever. "What is going on?" A huff escaped between your lips, as you shook your head to the chaos that had already passed on. You could clearly see the teenagers in front of you looking at each other with big, almost plate-like eyes, just like they wouldn't believe what you had just said. "What?" The pressuring voice that you let out truly got their attention, and finally one of them turned to face you fully, with admiration in her voice. "Was that the Black Widow?" Oh shit.

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