"Come on, Natasha! Don't be mad for such a dumb reason!"
"Just shut the fuck up, why don't you, Alfred?" The young woman snapped looking over at the American who bared an attempted repentant expression while scratching the back of his head seemingly uncomfortably.
"Fine then, on that note, what could I do to make it up to you?!" He had dropped his hand and put it on his hip eagerly questioning.
"You don't have to do anything, so don't make such a fuss about it. Now give me back my hair bow and I'll forget about it." She had blown a lock of the Ivory hair that cascaded down her head almost symmetrically away from her pallid cheek; although at the moment it was somewhat disheveled from stress.
Natasha had never really thought of Alfred as a friend of some sort, but clearly Alfred had thought something of her the other way around. It got quite irritating at times. What was so interesting in the first place, clearly he hadn't thought of her brother in this way. So, why her? She didn't have anything to do with him. Nothing at all.
The American then unraveled his hand from a fist on which he had clenched a white frilled bow in and gently placed it back onto the girls' head gently so it would sit there, Natasha snatching it off directly afterwards bluntly mumbling something that may have been relative to a thank you.
He smiled. It was nice to see her like this, more than it was nice to see her in general. He had always wondered why she wouldn't say too much, sit alone, walk alone the only one she saw her really focus on was Russia; she had to want some kind of affection. He knew it. Everyone needed someone that they could talk to. Everyone needed someone to tell how they felt. No one could really be that cold inside and out. Although he could never pity her, which is not a sense he felt, he just wished that she'd see more in him; Or just someone. He bet she'd be cute too…
"What on earth are you smiling about?!" She said lowering a brow while adjusting the bow-accessory back into her hair.
"Huh?" he looked to her face once again not before putting a hand on her shoulder.
"You." He shortly replied as if it would mean nothing.
"C'mon, Natasha, can't you just lighten up for once, that's all I'm asking."
"Eh?..." She questioned half-heartedly.
Obliviously the girls violet-blue weary eyes widened not into a surprised expression, just more of skeptical. It had bothered her. What was this. This feeling he had given her. It almost felt warm. Why would someone care about her like that? What was the purpose? It all seemed absolutely pointless, although no matter the pointlessness she took his hand off her shoulder and held it in her own palm, gripping it tightly.
"I don't get it….. But I'm okay with that." She stepped forward once more to him pulling his now more surprised face into a hug, not quite that lightly either.
Love was idiotic, and she had just now realized she might have been finding a love for an idiot.
The vivid blue eye man then spoke up in a light tone basically muttered into her ear.
"This is a lot better than what I could have done to make anything up, Natasha."
An almost irked sigh fell through the air as she still held onto him. Maybe. Maybe it was good to learn to love someone. Even an American.