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Awakening Steve threw his arm out to the side, in a manner he had done repeatedly over the past month or so, still hoping to find a different outcome to the time before...alas it was much the same. Empty. A languid groan emanated from the soldier as he scrunched his features into an expression of annoyance and frustration before palming his hands over his face, trying to hide from the wounding truth. Natasha had left him alone... again.
After his admission to her and their subsequent liaisons, things had seemingly become a lot less complicated but as they had continued it had become apparent to Steve that in fact it was the complete opposite. It had become so much more complicated. Over the past couple of weeks Steve had managed to remove himself from the delirium of happiness, enough for him to realise that although he had expressed his feelings for her, Natasha had in no way expressed her feelings for him... not verbally anyway.
It unnerved him that he had laid bare the affection he held for her, yet her response at the time had been one of avoidance and negativity. Bar their kiss, on reflection it looked wholly as if she felt completely the opposite of him, however her physical shows of affection had portrayed an entirely different story. Her touch and lips had been enough to distract him from the troubling thoughts that had started to become, convincing him for the time being that she did indeed feel the same as he. However one staggering indication that all was not as Steve had thought, was that every morning for the past month he had awoken to find the place beside him devoid of her. Her discarded clothes long gone and the warmth of her body removed and replaced by a barren cold void that clung to his sheets. She didn't stay.
At first he thought that perhaps it had been due to the unspoken agreement that they would keep... whatever they were, a secret from their fellow Avengers however now he had become convinced that there was much more to it than that. He had wanted to discuss it with her but he could never find the right words to say or the moment in which to breach a clearly sensitive subject, although now he had reached the end of his tether and enough was enough.
As his hands pulled down his face, his fingers lazily dragging over his brow and settling above his eyes, he groaned loudly his words punctuated by a groan of frustration and agitation,
"What am I doing?" His eyes remained closed as he revelled in the idiocy that was him, before his reverie was interrupted by the familiar teasing luscious tones of none other than Natasha herself,
"What are you doing?" Swiftly he whipped his hands from his face allowing his gaze to befall upon her, and once again he felt himself being overcome by the fondness he held for her as he felt his body course with affectionate warmth. In turn he could not fight the way the edges of his lips curled pleasingly into a soft endearing smile, one that communicated clearly the effect she had on him. Leant against the door frame with her arms crossed against her chest , her curvaceous figure was encapsulated in one of his shirts the excess material hanging from her svelte figure in a manner that had become pleasingly familiar. Her crimson curls were tousled and rough, lacking their usual polished style however he liked it, not that it was anything to do with the fact this hands had indeed contributed to making it look that way. Astounded by her presence he could not hold back the blatant statement that exhaled from his lips, in a soft tone of disbelief,
"You're here." Her lips immediately contorted into their trademark teasing smirk, one of which ignited the mischievous glint and sparkle within her bewitching jade eyes, as she strolled towards him. As she made her way to him, he swore she purposefully swung her hips in a slow sensual manner that she most certainly knew would hold his attention, showing off her toned smooth legs as she quipped,
"Well done your observation skills are clearly improving." Perching herself on the edge of his bed she leaned over him, slowly lowering her upper body above his with her hands placed either side of his head. Her lips were a mere inch from his, her crimson locks cloaking them within their intimate moment, as she hushed irresistibly,
"Morning soldier." Before placing her lips upon his in a languid kiss, which basked pleasingly in the ability to indulge in a slow pace that time could then afford them. As they fell into one another, Steve's hands curled around her waist tightly his fingers furling around the edges of her abdomen in a possessive and wanting manner. Natasha's arms equally relaxed, allowing her upper body to fall upon his bare chest as her fingertips traced gently along his neck before massaging their way into the hair at the nape of his neck.
It was at this moment that Steve wished he did not think as much as he did, for despite the pleasant feeling of Natasha in his arms, he could not forget the disappointment he had felt moments ago at the thought of her absence. The anguish and confusion he was consumed with over the mystery of her feelings when regarding them, managed to somehow reach out to him again yearning to be dealt with. Summoning every ounce of will and self control he possessed he withdrew from her lips, allowing his gaze to skate over her beautifully sharp features which had momentarily shifted into an expression of bewilderment. Her fingertips continued to dance along his skin tracing circular patterns along the path of his jugular whilst occasionally following his jaw line, an action he had noticed she was fond of, as she enquired slowly,
"Steve?" He sighed slightly trying in earnest to find the appropriate in to their upcoming conversation before failing spectacularly and coming out with an age old classic,
"We need to talk..." As if she was programmed to respond to those exact words she retracted swiftly from his embrace, as she sat up quickly she murmured,
"Nothing like a cliché to start a conversation." Her removal from his vicinity was not one he took gladly, feeling immediately the loss of contact as his bare chest bore the brunt of her absence, his skin goosing in response to the cold air where she had once been. She remained perched on the edge of his bed, her knees brought up to her chest with her arms wrapped around them whilst her features were set into an expression of pure indifference. Her lips were pursed, and her eyes had long lost their vibrant sheen of vigour and energy her gaze weighing heavy upon him, just waiting. Waiting was something that Natasha wholly disliked when it came to situations away from work, and so with words embellished with impatience she passively stated,
"You know in a "talk" you need to actually talk." Drawn out from his momentary lapse of attention, which mainly consisted of his observation of her, he shuffled into a more suitable up right sitting position. Once settled he nervously mumbled,
"Right... yeah..." An expectant look adorned Natasha's face as she quirked her eyebrow in a manner that told him simultaneously she was waiting and she was tired of doing so. Looking upon her he dispelled all the nerves that had clung to him vehemently whenever he thought of discussing his concerns from what had been one of the best nights of his life. His voice was steady and firm, seemingly sounding incredibly sure in a moment where he felt quite the contrary,
"That night when I told you how I felt about you, about us... I hoped that you would feel the same..." Her attention was still held by him and only him, but nothing in her demeanour or posture indicated any initial response to his words, so he continued,
"... and at the time I thought that you said you did, but looking back... you said nothing. I just want to know do you want this? Because if you don't that's... fine." His shoulders had slumped forward, and his features had dropped into an expression that looked incredibly like a guilty child who thought their behaviour had ruined everything, in some way it was adorable but in another it was heartbreaking to say the least. The edges of her lips tugged and pulled, causing them to shift and move in a show of uncertainty as she processed his words. Fidgeting she moved her legs so she was now sitting cross legged facing him, her fingers toying with the edge of his shirt that she currently wore, conveying a discomfort she felt whenever she had to breach the subject of them. It was hard enough for her to comprehend that amidst their burgeoning and trusting friendship, intermittently dispersed with smatterings of flirtation they had somehow become a them, a we, an us. It terrified her. More than any adversary, more than any nightmare that plagued her every night, the idea of being with someone, depending on someone and... loving someone was horrifying. To think that an individual could hold the key to your happiness, to your hopes, dreams and desires and have the ability to take it all away whenever they pleased consumed Natasha with a powerful feeling of apprehension and unease. To allow someone that power and control over you was something that she had long ago been taught was not an option, it was weakness and a quick and sure fire way to get killed. No attachments allowed. If anything this knowledge of the human desire for companionship and love had become incredibly useful when it came to getting close to marks or obtaining required information. People were so desperate to belong to someone, to trust and have someone and live the reality of what they had been taught was a 'happy ever after', it was easy to exploit. Too easy.
"If you're expecting a declaration of love I'm sorry to disappoint." Gazing upon her he identified that no longer was she Natasha, right now the mask of the Black Widow had fallen into play the very moment she felt uncomfortable. Her need for control and stability blazed vividly across her features in a stern show of indifference, her eyes lacked their usual luscious and rich gleam whilst her body exhibited clear signs of tension. She was on her guard, every sense thrumming with the promise of a threat... and right now that threat was him. With a heavy heart provoked by the disappointment of her assumption of him, he sought out her gaze and with the stark but gentle honesty that was so him, he stated,
"You know that's not what I'm asking." Her steady stare continued to bore into him, it's vacant nature scratching across his skin in a raw show of discomfort, as she replied,
"What do you want from me Rogers?" Knowing what he was to ask of her was somewhat simple, but for her it was a whole other foreign realm, a plane she had not been able to cooperate with for some time. With that in mind, Steve still answered her, knowing full well that it could end... everything,
"I want you to be honest with me." At that a smirk etched its way across her lips in a manner that indicated it was masking a lot more than it was revealing. Her hands glided up and down her bare legs in an absent minded show of unease, before she drily quipped,
"That's a lot to ask of a girl." As strong as the trust he had in her he replied,
"I believe you can do it." The words he had spoken undoubtedly had an effect, as he saw clearly through the breaks in her steely facade, that he had reached her. For so long she had feared the concept of caring for someone, of being dependent on a person who held everything you wanted, but she never once believed she could become that to someone. But she was, right now looking into the eyes of Steven Grant Rogers she saw she was everything he wanted. And in that one moment she realised that underneath everything, beneath the trepidation and apprehension, she wanted him too. Immediately Steve recognised the tension ease slightly from her body, her eyes softened and appeared to glitter in their usual attractive manner, as she stated with a soft smile,
"Yes." Immediately his brow lifted and a somewhat childish excitement and hope took over his features, it was an endearing sight to say the least and one that made her smile broaden. Despite his animated expression, she recognised that he wasn't quite sure of what she was saying yes to, causing his eyes to squint in a questioning manner as he uttered,
"Yes?" Shuffling forward over his outstretched legs she straddled his hips, much to his surprise from the look on his face, as her fingertips gently glided across his jaw in a show of pure compassion. As she did so she gazed down upon him, taking in every perfectly drawn line of his features knowing that in her heart of hearts he was far too good for her. But he wanted her, he wanted all her flaws; a past that was darker than most; and the complete and utter mess that was her emotional capabilities. He wanted her and she couldn't deny him it anymore, she couldn't deny herself either. Her thumb grazed the edge of his lips, as his hands crept up her back, before she hushed,
"Yes I want this." If you had asked Natasha Romanoff what would be the one thing she would like to see before she left this world, before her heart stopped and the burden of her identity fell away, she would not have been able to answer. But right then she knew that she'd like to see Steve's face when she uttered those words. His eyes lit up as if finally a heavy storm that had seated itself there had lifted, whilst his dimples appeared more prominent than ever as a massive grin swept upon his lips. His cheeks positively bloomed with an innocent blush that was a show of pure excitement rather than an embarrassment, and she had made him look like this. She had made him happy, and if that was the one thing she could take from her incredibly intricate, disrupted and corrupted life, she couldn't complain.