A/N: Sorry for not updating quicker! I was at an intentional business competition in Orlando all last week, and I have been super busy with AP tests. This is only a short update that centers around Steve and Natasha, but I hope everyone enjoys it!

*Flashback*

She welcomed the dull burning of her muscles eagerly. A life full of pain; a life full of suffering seemed to magically disappear. The soft notes cascaded through the air as she allowed herself to be consumed by them. This, all of it, had been the one constant in her miserable life so far. She counted off in her head, her effortless movements timed perfectly to match the music. Her eyelids slid shut over sparkling green eyes; her toes screamed in pain as she flexed them, moving across the empty room. In that moment, nothing else mattered; it was just her and the music. The painful tranquility seeped down into her bones and crept into her soul—if she even had one left.

As the notes came to an end, she stopped. She looked at her reflection in the mirrored wall—panting, red hair disheveled, and unnatural tears threatening to spill.

"You dance beautifully," an unwelcomed compliment came from the doorway.

"What...why?" she stammered, unable to form a coherent question.

"I got home from my mission early. Don't worry; I'm the only one here.

"Jesus Steve, I didn't even hear you. Did you...How much did you see?"

"Enough. I didn't know that you dance ballet," he entered the room, softly closing the door behind him.

"Yeah, well it's the one thing in my life, the one thing that...they let me cling to."

"Well you're incredible," he wasn't sure if he was talking about her dancing or her as a whole. And suddenly he was coming towards her, closing the space between them.

"Thanks, I guess. But if you tell anyone I won't hesitate to kill you in your sleep. And that's a promise," she threatened quietly, maliciously as her eyes locked in on his.

"Oh, I don't doubt that," he whispered back. And before he knew what he was doing, his hand was lightly grasped around her wrist.

She really didn't know what all of this was. The way her heart sped up when they were around each other. The way she would catch herself staring at him for just a second too long. All these things were building up inside her for the past eight months, and she was ready to explode.

"Natasha...you're crying."

And without fully realizing it, she inched herself closer to him. Her wrist still encircled within his hand, she tilted her chin up until their faces were aligned. She arched an eyebrow and shifted her eyes up to him. "Kiss me."

He relished in the warm, tangy scent of her breath on his face. Without hesitating, he leaned in and lightly pressed his lips against hers. She tasted sweet and warm and like nobody else. If it came down to it, he could live off the taste of her without ever getting bored.

Too quickly were they broken apart, their noses lingering together—her hands still on the sides of his face. "What's wrong with me?" she began quietly. "Why am I experiencing these—feelings that I shouldn't be having?"

"Who ever said that you shouldn't have this—whatever we are? I don't care what they told you, you're the most human person I've ever met. The feelings are more than mutual," he paused. "God, Natasha, these feelings—I have them too. I don't know what it is, but I can't get you out of my head. I don't mean to be forward, but I want you. I want you, and your personality, and your beauty more than I've wanted anything in a very long time. And you're lying if you say that you don't feel the same electricity that I do every time I see you, every time I touch you. I've had you stuck on my mind ever since that day on the escalator. And I'm not letting you get away. Not this time."

"Steve, I don't. I don't know what to say," she responded. They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. "I don't know how to put my feelings into words—I've never been very good at that. But do you think that I could maybe kiss you again?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I was counting on it," he replied as he pressed his lips into hers, the two seamlessly interlocking. And, yes, it may have only been their third kiss, but Steve knew that he would never again let go. He was determined to die with the taste of Natasha upon his lips.

*End Flashback*