Chapter III
Prompt: Lissome
Natasha was beginning to realise just how far down she had buried her teenage years. The Red Room was nowadays nothing more than a vague black and white film playing quietly among a vast array of colourful memories. Yet, every lissome movement she made in battle began to slowly bring the hazy black and white back to vibrant colour, and she knew, in the deepest parts of her mind, that she would never truly forget every training, every dead classmate, every mission that wasn't for the right team.
But some things made it better. Clint would often mock Steve's age in a rude manner, and she'd chuckle at Steve's frown. Somehow the lighthearted joking between her and Clint was just what she needed, even if most of what she said was a snide, sarcastic remark or two every so often.