A/N: Okay, let me just say this is my second time writing this chapter since my computer decided to delete it the first time even though I had saved it. (Stupid computer) I did however managed to rewrite it though I don't think it's as good as the first time around. But after going through my frustration I decided that this would be the last chapter of this story, but I am writing a sequel to show how their relationship progress and plays out. But I also want to write a Thor/Sif fic that may or may not tie into this story line. Not sure which one I am going to do first. Anyway hope you enjoy, and don't forget to look out for the sequel or the Thor fic. And leave reviews telling me what you enjoyed about this one and how you think their relationship may/should progress in the sequel.
She isn't sure how long she stood saying nothing as he stared at her waiting for just that. She was sure it wasn't as long as it felt though. She had wanted to say something, to explain herself but when those blue eyes turned on her she froze, physically and mentally. So much hurt, disappointment, and anger in his eyes.
He stared at her waiting for her to continue, to apologize for her behavior, but so far she had been able to profess nothing. He really noticed her for the first time since arriving at the tower. She had dark circles under her eyes and her red curls were strapped loosely in a low bun, a lot of them pulling free from the constraints of the hair tie she had slipped around them. He hadn't seen her look this exhausted since right after the fall of SHIELD, when they would show up at each other's places at weird hours of the night. Back when their demons had been more actively attacking their mental stability. She had on one of his light blue button downs that he had been looking for for the last few months, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and some gray tights. He wanted to ask how she was, if everything was okay, how she had been, had she been sleeping, had she started dreaming again, but he refrained from doing so, barely. He wanted this, he opened himself up to her, she had taken what he had to offer and left with it all. She wanted it this way, so he would give her what she wanted, his anger giving him at least a little motivation to do so.
"I-I.." she tried again for the second time to explain herself. After a few more seconds of silence his frown deepened and he once again turned away from her, continuing down the hall. She cursed herself silently and fought back the tears that tried to make their way from her eyes down her cheeks.
He continued to make his way down the almond colored hall with thick red stripes near the ceiling and floors. He had never had a chance to really explore but wondered if everyone's else's floor resembled their place on the team. He had to admit it was an intriguing thought to think that Bruce was living on a mostly green floor or to think what types of things Tony had come up with to design and furnish Thor's floor, but the thoughts were mostly forced to forget the red head standing behind him wearing his clothes she had confiscated from him.
He stopped at the first door that was to his left and flipped the light switch that was right next to the door frame. the first thing he noticed was a large red wood desk sitting in front of a red brick wall with a huge office chair that he was sure did more than anyone would ever need a chair to do. All the other walls in the room were covered with charcoal gray paint. The wall straight across from him housed five large windows that were elevated about four feet from the floor. Beneath them was a large couch with navy blue cushioning that matched the large navy blue leather chairs that sat in front of the desk, a circular red wood side table sitting between them. Off to his left was a wooden table with a glass top that had a map attached to the top of it with little plastic green toy soldiers striking different defensive and offensive poses on top of it. It reminded him of the maps they would use to strategize an attack during the war, minus the toy soldiers of course. On the wall across from the windows were tall book shelves that held different ornaments and numerous books. He gave a nod of appreciation before flicking the light switch to the off position and exiting the room.
The next room he stopped at was on his left. He flipped the switch and was greeted by a large king sized platform bed in the center of the wall to his right. The wall behind the bed consisted of different shades of brown and beige bricks and the bed was covered in a large plush looking navy blue comforter with sheets a slightly lighter shade of blue underneath it. The wall across from the entrance consisted of a large panel window that took up almost the entire wall and he could see the night skyline of the city which was beautiful. He looked to his left and saw that the wall was covered in carmine red paint, the same color as the edges of the wall that housed the panel window. That side of the room was occupied by very comfortable looking furniture that made up a sitting area. There was a door on the wall that he figured either lead to a closet or a bathroom. The ceiling consisted of several crossing beams that were trimmed with red paint and separated several large warm beige squares which held light units embedded into them. He smiled to himself as his eyes drifted back towards his new bed. He opted to leave the light on thinking he might make use of the bed as he suddenly realized the exhaust that had crept up on him.
He would have just crawled into the bed then and there but Bruce mentioned something about an art studio, and it had peaked his interest. He continued down the hall towards the door at the very end and flipped the switch, a huge smile coming to his face after doing so. The room had multiple art stations with an abundance of art supplies spread throughout as well as built in storage units he was sure was filled with even more supplies. The wall opposite of him was again filled with large individual windows that started about three feet off of the ground. All four walls consisted of bricks of different shades of brown, gray and beige and the ceiling exposed the pipes and venting system that supplied the room. There was a sink to his left built into a counter top that occupied the one corner of the room. In the middle of the room was two large fashionably worn L shaped wooden desks connected by an eclipse table to make a large U-shaped work station. He carefully made his way across the wooden floor, that felt a little odd and silently thought that it might have some type of special material to accommodate for the paint and other products that was sure to get onto it at one point or another. He sat down and began creating.
She stood at the end of the hallway, watching as he disappeared into the art studio. She wanted to be in there with him. His art was were he went to get away from the world. His safe haven, where he found peace and solace. She knew this studio would be the place he would go to grieve, to reflect, lament, deal with his anger and disappointment, to celebrate. And she wanted to be in there with him. She wanted it to be their safe haven, where they would hide away together, protecting each other from everything outside of their world that they would create. She wanted to be his muse, his inspiration for the art that he would create that would help him to find his balance again.
She has not noticed that she has begun walking down the hall until she rounds the corner and finds him perched on top of the tall stool in front of the slanted table, a stick of charcoal in his right hand. He has discarded his hoodie on the table near the door revealing the white T-shirt that stretched across his broad back and shoulders. There was not a hitch in his movements or demeanor that makes her think he is even aware of her presence in the room. She wants to leave, she should leave, but she isn't thinking right and she knows that. She is too busy trying to fight back tears that she's not really sure she has reason for, and her head is clouded with want, need, and lack of sleep. She just wants him to acknowledge her, to talk to her, tell her that he is never going to desert her no matter how much of knucklehead she is. She never knew she could feel these types of emotions especially all at once and it's setting her skin on fire. It's like some wired every square centimeter of her skin with conducting wire and they have all decided to ramp up to full power at this very moment. She doesn't know what she's doing, but she is doing something, and its not leaving, and she doesn't care because who the hell cares about anything when you feel like you're imploding on yourself.
"Whoa," he jumped back a little, as she climbed up half onto his eclipse board and half into his lap. "Natasha." She hadn't startled him, he had known she was there, her breathing a little more hurried and coarse than normal and he could feel some sort of energy vibrating from her way, but he had to admit, he had never gotten that vibe from her before. Still he had decided to ignore her, and clearly she had opted to make it impossible for him to continue doing so. His hands were up in the air, trying not to smudge his picture and trying to create some space between him and the live wire sitting in front of him... on top of his picture, so much for not smudging it.
He opened his mouth to say something, but her hands quickly snaked around his neck pulling his lips down onto hers. He resisted for about a second, more from surprise than anything before bringing his hands down to here waist and pressing his lips harder against hers, deepening the kiss. She moaned into his mouth as her legs came up to wrap themselves around his waist. She leaned back on to the slanted table pulling him down to her. Her lips left his and drifted to his neck, ears and upper chests.
"Natasha," he repeated again as if he was about to protest.
"Paint me," she interrupted, before letting her lips drift back up to his. She licked his bottom lip before biting down on it causing him to groan some and press his hips into hers, and he noticed for the first times, her tights were gone. "Paint me," she said again between kiss.
He again managed to pull his lips away from hers, fighting an internal war with himself. He wanted so badly to christen his new art studio by making love to her on top of one of his work stations, but a very small part of him was still angry with her and knew that he would be enabling her to continue her self destructive ways if he allowed her to have her way with him.
He let out a low hiss, and growled her name once more as her lips connected with a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. She smiled against his skin and reached for his belt.
"Tash," he panted trying to gather his thoughts. "I can't."
"You can," she corrected as her lips continued to work at his jaw line, her nimble fingers at the waist band of his pants.
"No," he started again reaching for her wrist. Suddenly she found her arms being held firmly at her sides and he created an effective enough distance between them for her to look up into his eyes. "I can't. Not like this."
With that he pulled away from her and left the room, forgetting his hoodie. He passed by the bedroom thinking it might be a better idea to make his way back to his apartment after all.
"Why are you so damn dense?" he heard her yell in a shaky voice.
He turned around with an incredulous look on his face. She was the one that had left him alone in bed with a broken heart, after having sex with him only to call him names when he did not give in to her again.
"Excuse me?" he questioned, still not believing his ears.
"You are so damn stupid Steve," she yelled at him again taking a few more steps towards him but still leaving enough space as not to cause the tower to collapse by allowing their energy fields to merge with each other and therefor probably spontaneously combust.
"Oh, I'm the stupid one. I'm the one that can't clearly see when someone is standing right in front of them telling them they are falling in love with them." Okay, so maybe he hadn't meant to say that, but that was they only way he would be able to describe what he was feeling. Maybe he wasn't quite in love with her yet, but he loved her, and he be damned if that feeling wasn't growing stronger every day, even during the past few weeks when he felt like she would ultimately be the death of him.
"You're not falling in love with me," she told him solemnly, her eyes being diverted towards the floor since she had heard the word love.
"How would you know?" he countered. "You haven't crawled out of the red room long enough to experience any kind of real positive human emotions, so tell me Natasha, how would you know?"
Ouch. That stung, dragging the red room into this now was he. Well he was wrong. She was feeling something now, something very strong and she be damned if it wasn't real. She didn't know if it classified as positive but if it didn't it was certainly not her normal negative emotions that made her want to slump down in a corner of a dark room or slit someones throat after sparing with them watching their blood squirt out turning the beautiful blanket of white mountain snow that lay beneath them a vibrant crimson red. These feelings made her want to fight, but not in a murderous way. It made her want to actually do something progressive. But at the same time it scared her, but she couldn't pin point exactly why. Her eyes flicked back up to his with a look of determination and anger.
He could see the tears wanting to spill over, but again, she was too stubborn to allow them to. He thought he was about to get his ass kicked, but instead got bombarded by a barrage of words. Some of them he could make out, but others he weren't so sure about as they were from different languages. He couldn't count how many languages she was spinning together in her verbal assault but he was positive most of the non English words were Russian. He would say French was the next highest up, but he could make out some German words in there, and had she just said something in latin? He lost track of which words sounded mostly closely related to which country as they started to blend together even more. He was, however, able to make out one phrase that was mostly in English and Russian. "I haven't been able to sleep in ten days because of you, you asshole." He was positive that he had gotten called a lot worse within the past two minutes but was just too stupid to know the severity of it.
He suddenly felt like the guilty party. Maybe Natasha hadn't been so cold blooded about their tryst as he had first suspected, but he still maintained that he had every right to be upset with her. The only thing that stopped her was a large flash of lightening followed by a loud crack of thunder, which they both was sure was Thor's way of alerting them of his soon to be arrival at the tower, since there was not a cloud in the sky the last time they checked.
She stood there heaving, and he had never seen her so disheveled and unsettled in her anger, in her despair, yes, but not her anger. Usually she would just go straight to kicking ass are go along silently making mental tallies of how she needed to make someone pay later, when the time was right.
She must have realized how exposed she was because she made a hasty retreat for the elevator. He wanted to reach out and grab her as she passed by him if for nothing more than finishing their argument, he still had a lot of things to get off his chest, but he was glued in place, still trying to figure out what had happened. He continued to stand in the same spot for a good two minutes after she had exited his floor but didn't realize it until Jarvis spoke. "Excuse me Mr. Rogers, but I thought you would like to know of the gathering on the main floor to welcome Mr. Odinson back to the tower," the AI informed.
Steve ran a hand through his hair, wanting to go welcome his friend but feeling even more exhausted than he was before after his little episode with Natasha. "Thanks, Jarvis, but I think I'm going to turn in for the night."
"Very well, sir," Jarvis replied as Steve headed back down the hall towards his bedroom, having changed his mind again, "I hope you rest well."
He walked into his bedroom and immediately began stripping out of the shirt and jeans he had arrived in. He pulled open the door at the other end of the room and found it to lead down another small hallway which held a large bathroom with two or three separated rooms on the right and a few large closets on the left. He went into the closet that held the most drawers and starting going through them until he found one full of sweat pants. He pulled out a pair and pulled them on before going back into the bed room and crawling into the bed. It wasn't until his head hit the pillow that he realized that he had left the bedroom light on. He let out a large sigh, preparing to get up even though he didn't want to but the lights suddenly switched off allowing him to again get the full aspect of the gorgeous skyline of the city he lived in.
"Goodnight sir," the AI's voice sounded and Steve smiled, before replying the same. Maybe living in this tower wouldn't be the worst thing.
He laid awake for a while admiring the view in front of him, but only wishing he was close enough to the ground to hear the sounds of the city. His other apartment was just right as it was close enough to the streets to hear the sounds but not too close as to keep him awake from the sounds being too loud. He had grown up in this city and the sounds of the lively streets often lulled him to sleep as a little boy, while it would bother a lot of people, he welcomed it. Maybe Tony could get one of those sound devices that were made to help people relax. Though he was sure he would get crazy looks when he asked for it to be filled with angry traffic noises and the muffled sounds of drunk crazy people yelling, but he would ask anyway.
He closed his eyes preparing to drift off to sleep but felt someone crawling into bed behind him before he could make it there. His eyes immediately popped open and he instantly knew who it was as everything about her presence had grown all too familiar. Soon he felt her pressing her body into his back and her hand snaking around his torso, her palmed pressed firmly against his bare chest to pull herself closer to him, as if planting herself onto him. He laid there for a moment seeing what she would do. When he saw that was nothing he turned in her arms and looked into her eyes. They searched each other's faces in the dark, her looking for any signs of rejection and him looking for any sign that would tell him what she was truly feeling at the moment. Then he spoke. A simple question with no truly simple answer. "Why?"
Her eyebrows furrowed as she continued to search his face in earnest, trying to figure out what he meant by the question. In the end, she settled for the least explosive answer she could find at the time. "I told you, I couldn't sleep."
"You told me a lot of things," he replied, sharply but in a matter of fact tone.
Her features softened. He was letting her back in. "Sorry about that," she replied, confirming his thoughts that she had said a lot of not so nice things to him during her multilingual rant.
"Hmmph," was his only reply, causing her to laugh a little. This brought a smile to his face. He missed her laugh.
His hand came up to her neck and he slowly began to caress her cheek with his thumb, she smiled at him and mentally cursed him for being able to do this to her.
"I missed you Tash," he told her with the most earnest look on his face.
She placed her hand on top of his and leaned up slightly to place a slow sincere peck on his lips. She pulled back and confessed, "I missed you too."
He placed another quick kiss on her lips before pulling back to stare into her eyes again. She looked down for a minute and he became concerned, this was usually the part where she pulled away and sabotaged whatever progress they had just made. Her eyes flicked back up to him, and he could see those unshed tears there again. Before he could say anything she spoke.
"But you have to give me time," she continued to search his eyes, waiting for him to reject her request. But he only smiled before replying.
"I have a lot of time, I age very slowly."
She laughed and slapped him playfully on his chest causing his smile to grow wider as he pulled her into another kiss. Yeah, they would definitely need time to figure this out, a lot of time.
A/N: Alright, hope you enjoyed. And don't forget, more reviews make me write faster. ;)
