"Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably." – William Shakespeare, Much Ado about Nothing.
"Steve..."
One mention of his name from her mouth was all it took to transform the ambience of the suite entirely.
The soldier faltered in his sip of vodka and shifted in his seat. His eyes carefully levelled at his drinking companion, studying her, scrutinizing her, scanning for any cues of distress. Because even he could tell that something was wrong from the tone she'd use when saying his name.
The redhead sat silently beside him on that ridiculously large loveseat couch, nursing her own serving of vodka, straight out of the bottle.
The entire suite was hushed and still.
Everything was quiet except for the rhythmic tapping of her fingernails against the vodka bottle in her hand.
TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP.
A consistent and monotonous rhythm. Almost like a clock ticking, counting down to some sort of catastrophe. It felt as though a storm was coming, or as though a tsunami tidal wave was about to hit.
That deafening stillness, that calm before the storm, it unnerved him to the hilt.
Steve watched her elegant fingers worked away at the rhythm. Every click of her white nails against the glass wrecked his nerves a little bit, making him jumpy.
He brought his attention back to her face.
Her face betrayed absolutely nothing.
Neither did her eyes.
Her mouth was formed into a tight line.
Her overall exterior was calm and placid.
Her breathing was slow and even.
Her hands weren't clenched into fists, but were very much relaxed, with her fingers still wrapped loosely around the neck of the vodka bottle.
Outwardly, she seemed every bit like the sophisticated woman that she was, unruffled and unperturbed by anything in her surroundings. Just a beautiful woman who'd had a long day and wished to enjoy some good alcohol in the company of a friend.
But there was something in her voice before that screamed distress; something in the way she uttered his name that screamed trouble.
And even greater a warning sign was the fact that she hadn't said a single word ever since she uttered his name. She was usually forthcoming to the point of bluntness. So the fact that she was hesitating in her words was, in itself, a herald of trouble.
Something was definitely wrong.
Steve eyed cautiously as Natasha took another long gulp from the bottle.
"What is it, Nat?"
The spy slowly placed the bottle back onto the coffee table.
Their eyes met.
There were no teasing glints in her eyes, no smirk on her lips, no quirks in her brow. Nor were there any signs of that cute dimple on her cheek.
Her countenance appeared dead serious.
And Steve knew right away that the time for jokes and quips was up.
This was interrogative Black Widow.
The Black Widow wanted answers.
And from the looks of it, he was pretty sure he was about to experience the most intense interrogation session in his life.
"Before you hallucinated, you said that you wouldn't want me to go along with you to Siberia... And you were quite adamant about it too." A pause. And a downright bone chilling stare from the spy, "Why?"
Now her tone sounded…defensive. Was she upset by his words?
Did his words offend her somehow?
Well, okay, in hindsight, perhaps he could have put things a little bit more delicately compared to what he had said before… what was it again that he'd said?
Right. He had told her that she definitely shouldn't have come to Siberia with him and that he wouldn't have asked her to come with him even if everything were to happen all over again.
And when she asked him for a reason why, he had totally zoned out on her… which… was probably why she was asking him about it now.
She wanted answers.
And from her defensive tone, Steve knew that his words must've offended her.
Why wouldn't she, you idiot. You've made it sound like you were undermining her capabilities you stupid asshole. Steve thought.
His face paled immediately at the realization.
A realization which, unfortunately, came too little too late.
Oh…balls.
He was such a fucking imbecile.
Steve exhaled heavily. And the rocks glass he was holding in his hands soon joined Natasha's vodka bottle on the table.
"Nat, please don't take this the wrong wa-"
Her sharp voice cut him off.
"Oh cut the crap, Rogers. I know that you and Tony had been beating the shit out of each other in Siberia."
The soldier flinched, risking a quick glance at her only to catch a glimpse of a very, very unhappy Black Widow staring back at him. Apparently, he had some serious explaining task ahead for the night, and from the looks of it, probably a decent amount of groveling too.
Resigned, Steve turned away from her and leaned forward in the couch. His elbows came to rest on his knees.
"Yes… Tony and I, we fought each other in Siberia. And I wouldn't want you to get in the middle of that fight, Nat." said Steve.
I don't want you getting hurt. Steve had left that part out in fear of giving her wrong ideas about him seeing her as being incapable of protecting herself and whatnot.
"Oh, so you think that I wouldn't be able to handle myself if I was there, is that it?" Her tone cut through the thick air like a vibranium scalpel. So much for not giving any wrong ideas.
The moment he heard the hurt contained in her voice, he whirled his head to the side to seek out her face.
"No, Nat. That's not what I-"
"Oh, I think that's exactly what you meant, Captain." she snapped.
Her use of his rank title made him flinch once again.
The spy continued her tirade before he had the chance to explain.
"You don't trust me enough to have your back. You think that by being there, I will only hinder you…"
"NO! Nat. That's not what it was, if you could jus-" He was cut off again.
"THEN WHAT IS IT? I am your partner, Steve. And partners trust one another to have each other's backs. For years we've been partners…and now all of a sudden you're saying that if given another choice back at the hangar, you'd deny a chance for me to be there and watch your back? What the hell's that supposed to mean, Steve? What, did all your trust in me suddenly just vanished into thin air or something?"
"It's not about trust, okay. I just didn't want you getting hurt that's all…"
Natasha scoffed, "Wow. That really explains how much you trust my abilities to hold my own."
Steve had about enough.
"Jesus Christ, Natasha. That fight was BRUTAL. Tony fought with every intention to kill. Do you really think that I'd put you in harm's way like that if I'm given the choice?"
"Gee. Again. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Rogers. Your old-age dementia seems to have made you forget the fact that one year ago, I fought, and survived, a battle with an army of robot sentries on a flying city."
Steve stood up from the couch so abruptly that his knees knocked the coffee table a good 2 feet away from where it stood before. He stormed towards the sliding door which overlooked the balcony. He stare out through the glass. The voiding darkness of the night mirrored the dark turmoil in his heart.
His kept his back to her, because he honestly couldn't bear to see her looking at him like the way she did now, like as though she needed to protect herself and her own heart from him, like as though he was her enemy, like as though she couldn't let her guard down completely around him.
The cynic in him quickly envisioned what the situation would be like if Bruce was here with her instead of him. He tried envisaging her and Bruce, sitting in that same loveseat couch, the things that they'd be doing, or what her behavior would be like, or how the conversation would go.
Pfft. Conversation? Hah. He honestly doubt that there'd be much actual conversation going on if Bruce was here instead of him. Oh yeah. There won't be much conversation all right, he could guarantee that. Instead they'd probably be-
A dark thought crossed his mind. A memory. A flashback.
He suddenly remembered that disrespectful comment Stark had made years ago.
"Romanoff… you and Banner better not be playing hide the Zucchini…"
Yeah. Playing hide the Zucchini. That's probably what she'd be doing if Bruce was here with her right now.
Steve stifled a snort at the thought.
But at least she could still be herself around Bruce. At least when she was around Bruce, she wouldn't feel the desire to hide, or to protect her heart. With Bruce, at least she could be open.
Unlike with him.
When Steve spoke next, his tone was resigned and tired.
"Nat. Listen to me. This has nothing to do with abilities or skills, okay? During the fight, Tony had completely lost control of his emotions, because he had found out that Bucky was the one who–"
The spy interjected again.
"Right. Your old buddy old pal Barnes. A dangerous assassin that could be made to turn against you with just a few combinations of words which the psychiatrist had in his possession. Do you know how risky that was? Having Barnes there with you as your only backup? What if the psychiatrist brought out the Winter Soldier again, huh? You ever thought of that!? Oh, wait no, I think you knew that. Because the great Captain America always knows what he's doing." Natasha let out a bitter laugh, "You knew the high risks of having Barnes there with you. And yet you'd rather have Barnes there with you instead of me if given the choice. That says a lot about your confidence in me, don't you think?"
Something in Steve snapped.
Steve turned around from the glass to face the couch, and for the first time, Natasha saw pure anger on his face.
Shivers careened down her spine, and it took every ounce of her training to maintain her poker face.
Instead of backing away, she fired away with increasing tenacity.
"I suppose your dementia also had you forgetting the words which you'd said to me back at Sam's apartment two years ago, that the High and Mighty Captain America would trust me to save his life when it counts. Guess I was just really naïve to believe that." she said mockingly, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Steve took a step closer to the couch, "After all these years… you still don't believe that I trust you. No matter how many times I've shown you…"
The spy stood up from the couch and took her own step closer to Steve. Her eyes blazing with the flames of tenacity.
"Well, guess what, Rogers. You really have a fantastic way of showing your trust. What? What was I supposed to believe? That there were two of you supersoldiers against one man in a can. 2 versus 1, an advantage, and yet you still think that my presence there would only hold you back."
Steve's expression darkened. His own eyes flashed with fury as he took another step closer to Natasha. His voice was low and dangerous when he spoke, "He had FRIDAY. He had his full battle armor. He had his missiles and his goddamn repulsors, Nat. We had a Frisbee and a metal arm. We were outgunned."
Natasha took another step closer.
"Right. And I bet you think that my presence there wouldn't make a goddamn difference. I bet you think that you'd have one extra damsel in distress to take care of if I was there, an extra liability."
There was a slight hiatus in their yelling match when Steve was completely taken aback by Natasha's words.
Their breaths mingled dangerously in the small space between them, the venom from each of their previous words mixing and concocting together, forming a poisonous cocktail. Their eyes raged their own war. The tenacious flames of her green eyes battled ferociously with the darkened cerulean blues of his.
Steve let out a growl of frustration.
"Oh for God's sake, Nat! I never said that you'd be a liability! I'm just saying that the risks are too great. Open your eyes, Nat! He was a walking arsenal powered by an ultra-intelligent computer program! And he shot missiles at us, Nat. Missiles! Do you really expect me to put you through that if I had a choice not to?" Steve raised his voice, even though the person he was talking to was mere inches away from his face.
Natasha didn't flinch. Heck, she barely even blinked.
"And I would have messed up his systems with just a few lines of computer code, and prevented you children from beating each other like a bunch of conceited idiots." Her tone equally low and dangerous.
Steve's eyes widened. He could feel her breath caressing his jaw as she glared up at him with those fiery green eyes.
Steve was speechless.
"So much for your trust, Captain Rogers." said the spy as the soldier remained in his stupor.
The redhead turned to the couch, picked up her jacket, slid both arms into its sleeves and stormed towards the front door.
Steve Rogers wasn't letting her anywhere near that door. In a feat of superhuman speed, he intercepted Natasha's path to the door and blocked her using his rock-hard body.
"You wanna talk about trust? Fine, let's talk about trust."
The quiver of anger was present in his every word. Every syllable he uttered accentuated his anger and frustration. His tall figure towered over the redhead as he took several steps forward, forcing the spy to retreat several steps back into the living area.
Undeterred by the spy's protests, Steve advanced forward in huge strides, forcing the redhead further back into the suite. With every sentence that he growled out, Steve took a powerful step forward, and each time, it was accompanied by the clicking of the spy's boot heels as she was forced back two steps.
"You wanna know how much I trust you? Fine. I'll tell you how much I trust you."
STEP!
CLICK! CLICK!
"Who did I entrust the task of gathering intel about Bucky to after we took down SHIELD in D.C? You. I could've asked Fury, or Hill, two people who literally had eyes and ears everywhere! But no, I didn't ask them, I asked you, Nat. You. Because I trusted you more than them, I trusted you more than anyone else!"
STEP!
CLICK! CLICK!
"This entire time, when we were leading the new team. The person, the only person, whom I had ever entrusted my shield to, was you. And I've done that even way before we began co-leading the new team, Nat. Don't believe me? Okay. You remember last year? Huh? You remember?"
STEP!
CLICK! CLICK!
"When we were up against Ultron in Sokovia, guess who I had entrusted my shield to? You, Natasha. It was you! I threw my shield to you. Trusting you to be able to handle it well. Did the others have the same privilege? No. Only you, Nat. Only you."
STEP!
CLICK! CLICK!
"While we were leading the New Avengers, did you ever hear me giving out orders to you while we were out in the field? No. Because I trusted your own skills and your own abilities to make the right calls. And while you were giving the orders, not once have I ever questioned you, Nat. Not once. What does that say about trust? A lot! Doesn't it?!"
STEP!
CLICK! CLICK!
"Even from the very first day I met you, on the helicarrier, I had already trusted you! I had trusted your judgement, Natasha. One nod from you. One! One goddamn nod! From you! That was all I'd needed to give Clint the okay to be part of our mission against the Chitauri. Despite the fact that he had been brainwashed by the enemy just hours before the battle. Despite the fact that he almost took down the whole darn helicarrier with everyone on it! Yet, I still cleared him for the mission! Only because you said he was good to go and I trusted your judgement!"
STEP!
CLICK! CLICK!
"And you wanna know the biggest thing I've entrusted you with so far? Huh? You wanna know just how deep my trust for you runs, Romanoff?"
STEP!
CLICK! CLICK!
THUD!
The spy's back slammed forcefully into the bedroom door.
"Stev-"
"NO! Let me say this! I want you to hear this, whether you like it or not."
"My past, Natasha. My past. I've entrusted you with almost every bit of my past. And not just with the trivial stuff they put up at the Smithsonian, Nat. I've shared with you my intimate past, things that I don't talk about to anyone before. I'd told you almost everything about my life. About Bucky, about my mother and about Peggy too. Heck, I was this close to asking you to come help me with my hunt for Bucky 2 years ago. Sam wasn't even the first one I had in mind as my partner for that mission, Nat. It was you! And God, if it weren't because all your covers were blown, Nat, I would've have asked you to come with me, I swear to God."
Steve closed his eyes and shook his head.
He opened his eyes and exhaled loudly at the same time.
"That story about my mother, and about me almost committing suicide when I was eleven… you're the second person I've told that story to, Nat. I didn't even tell Peggy. Do you even know how personal that story was to me? Until today, only 3 people know that story, Nat. And here you are, doubting the depths of my trust for you. After all these years of me trying to prove it to you."
Steve let out a bitter chuckle.
Natasha had never ever seen Steve like this before, so riled up, so not in control with his own emotions, so angry.
Natasha dropped her head in shame. Tears stung her eyes.
Steve's right hand found its way onto her left cheek, his thumb settled on the apple of her cheek.
"But what about you, Nat? Do you trust me?"
Natasha lifted her head, and gazed into Steve's eyes. The light had returned slightly to his baby blues, replacing the shade of stormy darkness from moments ago.
"You know that I do, Steve." She reached up with her left hand and rested it against the back of his hand that was touching her cheek.
Just like that, the storm returned to Steve's eyes once again.
Steve sneered.
"Do you really?"
What the fuck? Natasha thought.
Her own eyes flashed with anger.
With a quick flick of her fingers, his hand that had been resting on her left cheek just a second ago was flung forcefully off her cheek. Said limb dropped and hung limply at Steve's side.
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, you know what I meant, Romanoff. You know." Steve showed no signs of backing off.
The spy's expressions contorted in anger. And confusion.
"What the hell are you talking about?!"
Steve shook his head in disapproval.
"I meant what I said, Romanoff. You don't trust me…not fully!" He spat.
SMACK!
The supersoldier stumbled back 2 steps when the spy delivered a powerful shove to his chest.
"Don't you dare! Don't you dare say that, Rogers. How could you even think that I don-"
SLAM!
THUD!
Steve Rogers closed the gap between them once more, slamming his palms against the door, near both sides of her face. His rock solid abs brushed deliciously against her breasts.
"Oh, don't even, Romanoff. Don't bother playing the fool. You are the smartest woman I know on the goddamn planet, so you must know, that I wasn't talking about that type of trust. I wasn't referring to the trust out in the field, it wasn't about the trust on the job or the missions either, and you know it. Stop playing dumb."
"What?"
An exhausted sigh escaped Steve's lips. He removed his palms from the door and took a step back.
"Thing is... The mission…the job, and your life. That's about as far as your trust in me runs, Nat. Other than those? You don't really trust me."
Natasha's jaw went slack.
Steve released a humorless chuckle, one that was brimming with rancor and vitriol.
"Guess I'll have to spell it all out for you, then, huh? Alright." Steve nodded, his lips curved down, "Do you trust me with your past?" He paused, his gaze pierced through Natasha's soul, "Your emotions?" He took a step closer,"Your heart?" The gentle hues of Steve's baby blues were now gone. They were replaced with midnight blues. So dark and angry. "Your secrets?" Steve finished after a long pause.
Natasha shuddered. Shuddered, at the unfamiliarity of it all, at the power contained in those eyes.
Natasha sighed and shook her head, "What are you implying, Steve?"
Steve paused for a good 5 seconds.
He looked away from the woman in front of him.
"You didn't tell me." Steve said, the anger had left his voice, and had been replaced by a sudden sadness and weariness.
"What?"
"Back in Clint's farm a year ago, while we were hiding from Ultron, I asked you about the vision that Maximoff showed you. You didn't tell me."
"Yeah, but I told you I wasn't ready, Steve."
"Yeah, well. A year has passed, and it turned out that I still didn't have a single clue as to what you saw back then."
"You didn't ask."
"That's because I didn't think that you'd ever be ready to tell me!" Steve snapped.
"I-"
But Steve cut her off before she could respond.
"Don't bother denying it, Nat. We worked side by side every day for the past year, you had all the chance to tell me, but you didn't. Admit it, you were never planning on telling me were you? And if you did trust me enough, you would've told me the first time I asked you back at the farm."
"I told you I wasn't ready back then, Steve. God…!" Natasha ran both of her hands through her red locks.
Steve let out a dark and humorless chuckle.
"So you weren't ready, huh?" Steve paused for a breath, "Alright. Let me ask you this. When you shared a bedroom with Doctor Banner back at the farm. Same time, same place, same day. Same circumstances. Did he ask you about your vision back then?"
Natasha dropped her gaze to her feet. A few strands of red hair fell over her shoulders as a result.
Steve took cue in her silence, "So I guess my assumption's correct, that he did ask you about your vision that day. Okay." Steve nodded twice.
"Did you tell him?" Steve asked again.
"Listen, Steve, that was-"
"Did you tell him?" Steve's voice was on edge.
"Ste-"
"DID you…or DID you NOT tell him. Just answer the damn question, Romanoff."
It took her 4 seconds.
"Yes…" her voice barely above a whisper.
Steve lowered his head in defeat. He didn't know why he even reacted to her answer. It was stupid and pointless, really, since he pretty much knew the answer already before she even opened her mouth.
"Well, there's our answer. You trusted Banner with your heart, with your emotions and with your secrets. You trust him enough to let him in completely. That was why you told him straight away. But with me, you didn't."
Steve walked around the couch towards the coffee table, and reached for the vodka bottle. At times like these? Not being able to get drunk downright sucked.
"You're not being fair here, Steve." Natasha said as Steve filled up his rocks glass with vodka.
"That's rich, Nat. As if you've been fair with me." Steve mocked.
It was a low blow. That much he knew, but he was too consumed in his anger right then to stop himself.
Natasha ignored the jab.
"You're speaking as if I never shared anything with you, Steve. And that's not true, remember that day when you gave me the two sketches?"
Natasha noticed Steve's anger faltered the moment he registered her words.
"Yeah, of course I remember. I gave those to you because I care about you, Natasha. And I wanted to show you how I see you as a person. I wanted to show you that, to me, in my eyes, you're a beautiful person, a good person." Steve placed the vodka bottle back onto the table.
"And you remember afterwards, I spent the night talking and sharing with you in your room? Did you forget that?"
Steve sighed and picked up his rocks glass from the table.
"I remember. You talked a little bit about your past, I remember every word you told me that night. Every word." The glass was brought to his mouth as he took a much-needed sip. God, where was all that Asgardian mead when he needed it?
Natasha's tone went back to being defensive, "A little bit about my past?! Wow. Never thought I'd share things with you only to have you belittle them."
Steve swallowed the mouthful of alcohol in his mouth, letting the burning sensation pass before he spoke again.
"You know what I meant. I didn't mean it that way. I didn't belittle-"
"Well it kinda sounds like that's what you meant!" Natasha spat.
"Jesus, Nat. I wasn't belittling, okay? What I meant was that you shared only bits and pieces of them, but not everything, you didn't trust me enough to tell me everything. And I mean the whole thing. EVERY thing." Steve said pointedly.
"Gee. If you're such an expert in the subject of Natasha Romanoff's Secrets, then I supposed you wouldn't need me to share with you anything at all, would you?" Natasha spat, failing to contain the torrents of venom and acrimony spilling out from her lips.
Steve shook his head disapprovingly and stared at the contents of the rocks glass in his hand.
Seconds later, he tore his eyes away from the glass and stared right into the spy's eyes.
"Alright, fine. Answer me this then, Nat. And I want the God-honest truth. No more quips, no more sarcasm, no more jokes."
"Shoot." Natasha said challengingly.
"Those things you shared with me that night in my room after I gave you the two pictures, did Clint have any knowledge of them?"
Natasha's face scrunched up in confusion, "What do you mean?"
Steve sighed in exasperation, "What I meant was, have you ever told Clint before the same things that you had shared with me that night?"
The look of confusion on Natasha's face deepened.
"What does that have to do with anything, Steve?" her voice was raised in frustration.
"Dammit, Nat. YES…or NO."
"Yes, I did. But I've known Clint for years before you were even thawed, Steve. You can't compare that."
Steve chuckled bitterly.
"Oh, I wasn't comparing myself with Clint, Nat. Far from it." Steve said.
"Then what? Steve. What am I missing? What does Clint's knowledge of the things I've shared with you that night have to do with anything? Okay, so Clint knows about the things I've shared with you before, so what? I've known Clint for a decade now."
Another bitter chuckle escaped the soldier's lips.
"You're a smart woman, Nat. You'll figure it out."
"Jesus, Steve. None of what you're saying makes any sense…first you compared yourself with Bruce and then Clint-" Natasha paused.
Steve watched the emotions play out on her beautiful face. First there was a look of recognition, of understanding. Then there was the instant paling of her face, was it guilt? Then finally, crimson flushed away the last vestige of the paleness.
Her eyes, so beautiful. Even in anger and resentment, her eyes were beautiful.
She was angry.
And so very beautiful.
"Told you you'd figured it out."
"So you did hear us. That morning, back at the Tower… when the team reassembled to deal with HYDRA and with Loki's scepter… we were all staying at the tower…" Natasha's eyebrows scrunched up, and her head tilted slightly to her right, trying to put the events together.
Steve remained silent.
She continued to piece the events together, "You overheard Bruce and I talking that morning didn't you…? And then you walked in afterwards…acting all cheery and dandy."
"Yes." He answered.
"How much did you hear?" she asked.
"I heard enough."
"Bruce and I were having a private conversation, Captain. Private. One that you'd apparently eavesdropped on." Natasha snarled.
Steve said nothing.
"Did you hear it by accident, or were you eavesdropping?" Natasha demanded.
Steve dropped his head in shame. He took a ragged breath and shook his head.
"Tell me, Steve. Were you eavesdropping?"
"Yes. Yes, I was eavesdropping." Steve's tone was weak, vanquished.
A bitter, humorless laugh escaped her lips.
"Wow. What happened to Captain Purity with the unwavering morality? What happened to the Boy Scout from the 1940s? And here I've always thought that Steve Rogers defines chivalry and respect. Yet he didn't have the decency to respect the privacy of two people having a PRIVATE conversation. Guess, I was totally wrong about you, huh? The whole world, was wrong about you."
Ouch.
The pain hit him almost immediately, and without warning. His heart hurt so much that he wanted to scream. It was unbearable. He couldn't believe his ears. He couldn't believe that he would one day hear those words coming out of her mouth. From Tony it'd be bearable, but coming from HER. God, did that hurt like a fucking bitch. Her words right then were akin to a knife, no, more like a fucking katana, stabbed all the way through his heart, and then twisted over and over again. Try as he might, he couldn't contain the gasp of pain which erupted from his lips. He couldn't breathe.
Steve closed his eyes, trying all he could to undo the mutilation that was done to his poor heart.
Ouch. Coming from anyone else I would've been able to ignore…but coming from you, Nat…Ouch…
Steve sighed. His heart was hurting. His head was hurting. His eyes stung. His ears rang. Everything was hurting. He'd honestly never felt this terrible before, not since taking the serum. Hell, not even that dip he took in the Potomac 2 years ago felt as bad. He said nothing, merely tightened his grip on the poor glass in his hand.
Natasha asked again after a long while, "Why did you eavesdrop?"
No answer.
"Why, Steve?"
CRACK!
The rocks glass shattered in Steve's superhuman grip.
"GODDAMMIT! BECAUSE I HAD FINALLY FOUND THAT PERSON WHOM I'M WILLING TO BEND ALL MY MORAL PRINCIPLES FOR, JUST SO I COULD HAVE A GODDAMN CHANCE TO KNOW A LITTLE BIT MORE ABOUT HER! THAT PERSON WHICH I CARE ABOUT MORE THAN ANYTHING! MORE THAN MY OWN LIFE! AND DEFINITELY MORE THAN SOME STUPID CHIVALRY EVERYONE EXPECTS FROM ME! GOD! FOR ONCE IN MY LIFE, WOULD EVERYONE JUST GIVE ME A BREAK?! I'M NOT SOME INNOCENT SAINT THAT Y'ALL THINK I AM, DAMN IT! I'M HUMAN, ROMANOFF. I'M HUMAN! I FEEL THINGS TOO!"
Natasha's eyes went wide.
Steve's still-clenched right hand dropped to his side, with torrents of crimson liquid dripping from it.
Shards of broken glass clinked to the floor noisily.
Puddling up beside Steve's foot was a mixture of blood… and vodka.
Author's note:
Hmm. Seems like this work isn't as receptive on this site. I might consider to stop publishing here entirely after all :'(