Child's Play
Summary: Or, how Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff fell in love.
A/N: This will be a collection of drabbles, because curse my writer's block- I can't stick to one story without starting another one. So this is just drabbles & thank god I've stumbled upon 'The Nanny Diaries' or else I wouldn't be fangirling this hard.
As well, since school is coming up in a week or so, this is my attempt at trying to get back into the 'writing scene' for Language Arts, considering I haven't been writing frequently.
There is no timeline to these chapters.
No beta & all mistakes are mine.
Please review- & I hope you enjoy.
Reviews keep me going. If you're liking the story, please review! I need to know if this story is worth continuing.
I never do disclaimers because I trust people are smart enough to decipher who owns what, but for safety measures...
Disclaimer: As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, I, passionately happy, do not own any recognizable parties used in this fanfiction.
"Love is for children," she says.
"It doesn't have to be," he replies.
vingt-et-un.
"Sit down."
Natasha stood at her position by Steve's doorframe unmoving and raised an eyebrow, amused. "Demanding, are you now?"
"Nat, seriously!" he groaned. "I really want to do something."
Natasha stepped into the room, closing the door behind her and sat in the chair in front of Steve's bed, smirking. "So what exactly did you want to do with me? Fondue?"
Steve blushed red. "N-no! I wanted to sketch you."
"You want me to pose?" Natasha smiles, sitting up straight.
Steve nods in reply. "Stay still; keep your eyes on me."
Natasha obliged.
She watched, mesmerized as Steve began to draw. It was like he was conducting a symphony- he drew each line smoothly with the occasional rash movement. He selected his pencil crayons like a violinist would select their bow; like a drummer would select their sticks. Natasha peered at the colours he picked up: red, black, tan, green, pink.
Suddenly, Steve's gaze averted from his page to Natasha, and the two shared a heated look. Steve kept his eyes on Natasha's as he drew; the spy took this as a challenge and stared back with the same intensity. Steve broke the state by looking back to his paper, and Natasha felt disappointed for a second until Steve ripped out the sketch from his notebook and handed it to Natasha.
"Wow, Cap," Natasha breathed, running a hand over her sketched in hair. "This looks more like a photograph than a sketch, my darling. If the Captain thing doesn't work out, at least you have art to fall back on."
Steve blushed. "Thanks, Nat."
Natasha smiles at the Captain and immediately stands up to sit next to him on the bed. "Can you teach me how to draw like that?"
"I can try," he chuckles.
A/N: Update attack!