A/N: Hope it makes sense! Chapters will be alternating between Natasha's POV and Steve's POV. Also don't forget to check out my edits for this fic on tumblr! Otptilltheend tumblr

One Month Later

Despite her best efforts Natasha could not help but feel uncomfortable and fake. Two things a spy like her should be used to —she was used to those feelings— but never around Steve. Steve made her feel safe and like she belong in the Avengers despite her bloody past. He made her feel loved. Made her feel.

As she lay next to him in bed, she couldn't help but feel guilty. For the past month she had been trying so hard to be more involved in the relationship, trying to do things that a normal girlfriend would do, but it all felt wrong. Her throat closed as she quietly slipped out of bed and into her clothes that lay forgotten on the floor. Teeth sinking into her bottom lip as the pen hovered over the notepad.

'Déjà vu' the red head thought as she set the pen down, grabbed her shoes and slipped out the door. By the time he would wake up she would be 40,000ft in the air, half way across the country and have an alibi for taking a classified emergency mission. No one would suspect anything.

Two Months Later

The humidity was felt by everyone, everyone including the green eyed blonde who was smiling and holding hands with a young man. To those around them they would look like a happy couple, but to those who knew the blonde —previously a red head named Natasha Romanoff, now a blonde ballet instructor and under the alias Nicole Richards— they would see the similarities the young man had to a certain super solider, as close as you could get without the serum.

It seemed that her alibi had worked. None of the team members had tried to contact her. No phone calls or texts. It was one of the many lies she had carefully weaved into her web. A lie to try to move on.

Moving on she had. Or so she like to lie to herself and say she had. But what Jackson, her doctor boyfriend, didn't know was that the heart pendent with a ruby in the center was not her mothers, nor was the matching ring she kept in her nightstand, they were a gift from a certain super solider she was trying so hard to forget.

Years of being in the Red Room had taught her not to keep anything that was significant when taking on a new identity. Whether it be a hair pin or clothing or jewelry. Nothing should be kept. If you keep it, you are unconsciously not wanting to move on. You are also putting yourself at risk of being recognized and targeted. Yet she kept them, unable to part with them like a widow is unable to part with pictures of her husband.

As they walked down the sidewalk, her hand came up to absentmindedly fiddle with the necklace. The pain of leaving Steve still as fresh as it had been the day she had done it.

"I need to go, duty calls." Jackson said as he looked at his phone and then turned to look at Natasha. The coffee shop they were going to just behind them.

"See you later." Kissing her cheek he smiled at her before walking back down the sidewalk and towards his car. The thick grey clouds hanging over the city, a definite sign that it was going to rain soon.

To say that Natasha was content with life at the moment was the biggest understatement of the century. She wasn't happy. In all honesty, she missed Steve. She wished that she didn't have to be so scared about commitment, about getting attached to someone. Yet the fear lingered in the back of her mind.

As much as Jackson wanted to turn their relationship physical, she couldn't. Every time he tried, she would feel Steve. See him behind her closed lids. She tried scrubbing her skin till it was raw and the slightest touch felt uncomfortable, yet he lingered. She could feel him even when she touched herself at night. That only lead to her silently crying herself to sleep, the sheets tangled around her.

Ordering a large coffee, she took a seat by the window just as it started to rain outside.

Water droplets raced down the glass like the tears that had raced down her cheeks late at night. Late at night when no one was around. When no one could hear. When the person she had been molded into fought against human emotion. Love. Grief. Loss. Guilt.

Running her hands through her blonde hair in an exasperated manner, she eyed her phone before taking a sip of her coffee. As if on cue, it beeped. Reaching for it she saw one text from Clint. Even though she never replied to Clint's texts he sent them anyway.

Opening the web on her phone, she Googled 'Captain America'. Her green eyes scanned article after article, all saying the same; he was in the Middle East, but she knew better, he had retired, he had actually hung up his shield. All because of her, all for the wrong reasons of course.

She had to move on. Had to stop thinking about him. But forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met. Impossible.

To Be Continued. . .