"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious."
― Beth Fantaskey
It had been a particularly rough day for everyone on the team, and it wasn't until now in the silence that occupied the aftermath that the reality of it all started to set in, the reality of how close they were to losing, to losing the battle, to losing each other. She had nearly lost Clint. The memory of the moment she saw Clint hit the floor sprung fresh into her mind, she remembered vividly the red that poured tauntingly from his torso, reminding her that despite the facade of invincibility she could still lose him, lose any of them to be honest. A shiver managed to coerce itself down her spine, scraping along the well honed muscles in her back in a manner that told her she needed to relax, she needed a distraction, at that thought she grabbed the small box and lighter from out of her backpack and made her way on to the balcony.
The crisp still air managed to seep into her bones, inducing a slight shudder to permeate her whole body and causing her toes to curl within in her trainers, however the clean chill of the wind that swirled and furled around her, was rather refreshing and momentarily displaced the uneasiness that seemed to linger so heavily. Placing herself by the railings she looked out upon the city, allowing herself a rare moment to marvel at the lights that adorned the buildings so readily, that caused the skyline to glisten and glow in a manner that was so magnificent. In the chaos and turmoil of the life she lead, it was rare that she could truly appreciate the splendour and wonder of the city she lived in and at this current time it was some sort of comfort to be able to just observe, to admire and to just be in the moment. Procuring a cigarette from the box she placed it between her lips before using one hand to protect it from the wind as she lit it with her lighter, the heat of the flame tickling her skin and illuminating her sharp and striking features. As she took her first drag and exhaled the smoke, she watched as the cloudy whisps curled into the night's sky, following the swirls of the wind in its merry dance before she heard the patio door open and close followed by the unmistakeable footsteps of Steve. Placing himself beside her, she could practically feel the worry and concern for her radiating off of him, and she could just imagine the show of anxiety that would pool in his brilliant blue eyes. Turning her head she met his gaze, and sure enough he looked upon her just as she predicted, and he followed suit by uttering the question she knew he'd ask,
"You okay Nat?" She bestows her most reassuring smile back at him, accompanied by two endearing dimples that he immediately wishes he would see more often as it causes her captivating emerald eyes to sparkle radiantly, and he swears in these precious moments she reveals the real essence of her. She answers him, her voice holding the teasing facade he thinks she doesn't even realise she's putting on anymore,
"I'm a big girl, I can handle it." He recognises the unwavering repartee that she always implements in moments weighted with the feeling of melancholy, and he wonders if she knows that he notices this, however if he's completely honest he finds it one of her most admirable and attractive features. Her ability to push pass the cumbersome burden of the responsibilities and expectations of being an Avenger, in addition with carrying the transgressions of her past, the memories of which he knows haunt her regularly. Her strength of mind as well as body was always a virtue he admired in her, one of which he hopes to procure himself, because at this rate he's afraid that he may buckle under the load of his mantle, Captain America: the first Avenger.
She glances down at the cigarette held delicately between her fingers, before a playful smirk etches its way across her attractive features in its usual perfect way, her voice fills the cold air cutting through the distant hum and purr of a city that never sleeps,
"You not gunna tell me off for smoking?" Steve glances down at the cigarette before an amused smile curls the edges of his lips, as he tucks his hands into the pockets of his joggers, displaying his magnificent physique in a way she's sure he's oblivious to,
"Nah... in my day everyone was doing it, even Bucky smoked... in fact he once told me that there was nothing more beautiful to behold than a sexy woman smoking." A suppressed laugh leaked from her lips as she exhaled the smoke from her recent drag, before she was able to allow fully her luscious and delightful laugh to erupt, immediately it alerted him to what he had honestly just said. Natasha however was already way ahead of him, as usual, before she asked through the remainder of her amusement,
"Why Captain are you flirting with me?" She expects him to fluster and apologise as crimson flushes up his neck and colours his cheeks in the most endearing manner, however this time he pleasantly surprises her as a large grin paints his face and not a hint of embarrassment is displayed. Part of her is slightly disappointed as she so enjoyed inducing that adorable blush, to know that she could embarrass the great and mighty Captain America but she also likes the idea that he's starting to acclimatise to the flirting of the 21st century. He looks at her with such honesty and admiration, and if she's completely honest it makes her slightly uncomfortable because she doesn't really think she deserves him to look at her like that, and nothing prepares her for what he says next,
"You don't need to smoke to look beautiful Nat." She pauses, her muscles clenching at the unfamiliarity of a sincere compliment such as his, she fights the disgusting need to squirm as her discomfort tries to take control and for the best part she manages to dispel it, although Steve does notice. He smiles to himself amused by the pure fact that he just made the lethal and feared Black Widow uncomfortable, as he observes her tucking a wayward crimson curl behind her ear as she too grins before taking another long drag of her cigarette. Her lips pout, exhibiting one of the features that indeed make her one of the most striking women he has ever encountered in his lifetime, as she blows the smoke out of her lungs painting the space in front of him with billowing clouds that hold the scent that reminds him so much of home, of a time gone past. Her abrupt question interrupts his reverie as she casts her attention back on to him,
"You ever smoke?" He scrunches his brow slightly as if reliving a clearly unpleasant memory, and one she knows she has no right to know of, but she's glad he's chosen to tell her as he explains,
"Yeah I did once, the doctor prescribed it to me as a way of easing the congestion in my chest, but I always hated the smell and it made me cough even more than usual." She's seen the pictures of Steve before the serum, and she remembers reading the rather distressing and long list of ailments and illnesses he had suffered with. It rather makes sense that despite the physical changes he has endured he still holds the ability to relate to anyone, to sympathise with any person suffering or in distress. She bestows an endearing smile and glance upon him before tossing her cigarette to the ground and stubbing it out underneath her foot, he quickly speaks up clearly concerned that his words induced her actions,
"I didn't mean you have to put it out..." A fluid and enchanting chuckle flows from her as she turns fully towards him, her voice holds that good-humoured and rich tone he adores so much as she quips,
"Believe me I didn't put it out for you, I need a reason to kick the habit and what better reason than the Captain's disapproval." Her emerald eyes sparkled brilliantly, capturing the bright lights of the city around them and reflecting back to him the wonderful glow this woman manages to emanate in times of such darkness. She bumps into his arm in a playful manner, before she saunters towards the door and the warmth that invitingly awaits her inside, and he just knows that she has that perfect smirk playing on her lips in its usual attractive way. His eyes follow her, his gaze drinking in every inch of her, every inch of the woman who shrouds herself in mystery, who hides behind the identities and masks she has constructed for so long. Part of him knows that he should feel uncomfortable with that, the troubling void of not knowing, but if there's anything he has learnt in the modern age it's that nothing is straight forward and he knows that Natasha Romanoff is far from that. Oddly... he kind of likes that.