She has no idea who's room is who's and it doesn't matter in the end. Natasha realizes before she even gets to the top of the stairs that she doesn't want to ask Jasper for help. In fact, she wishes to do nothing more than to put as much space between the two of them as possible right now, and that means going through two rooms only to find that one of filled with only male clothing and the other doesn't have any that fit her. She moves into a third, finally finding comfortable clothes that look like they'll actually fit her, and she gathers them to get ready for the shower before she hears him moving up the stairs.
The way she falls silent seems a little pointless in retrospect, she knows that he could easily find her if he actually tries, but he seems content sitting in the hall and speaking to the upstairs in general, knowing that she'll hear him. And she does.
It takes her almost a full minute before she manages to slowly step back into the hall, the clothes she had chosen clutched in one fist at her side, and her eyes bore into him with a fire that she isn't even bothering to contain. Her walls are still up, thick and unmarred, but they seem to tremble now as if the anger on the other side is threatening to tear them open at any moment. She can let them down... and she's tempted. She knows that she can let them down and the sudden emotional assault will be enough to disorient him, make him leave... she's seen it almost happen before by accident, she can certainly do it on purpose. It's the only means of defense she has against him if she needed it, of course it's something she's noticed.
She doesn't do that though. Instead she hovers in the doorway and stares at him, and when her words come they're slow and precise. "You brought me out here because your wife had a vision that you were going to love me." It's not a question, but a clarification. She still hasn't moved. "You decide to tell me this now, after I used limited resources to get here, to bring me to a group of people who are going to struggle with the desire to eat me, because you were going to love me?" Her jaw tenses and her wall cracks, heat spitting out. "What if I don't fall in love, did you think about that?"
And she seals it up again, because it's not going to help her right now and she knows it. Natasha patches the wall before she presses forward. "And even if I did, how did you expect that to work? You can barely come near me without having to run away, is that your plan? I fall in love with a man who can't stand to be close to me?" If he were anybody else, she would have already left... after smashing a few things. Yet Natasha can't bring herself to do that, instead she wants to hear what he has to say, and a little part of her hates herself for even entertaining that idea. "Or a woman I don't know who also can't stand to be close to me, I'm assuming."
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The way she falls silent seems a little pointless in retrospect, she knows that he could easily find her if he actually tries, but he seems content sitting in the hall and speaking to the upstairs in general, knowing that she'll hear him. And she does.
It takes her almost a full minute before she manages to slowly step back into the hall, the clothes she had chosen clutched in one fist at her side, and her eyes bore into him with a fire that she isn't even bothering to contain. Her walls are still up, thick and unmarred, but they seem to tremble now as if the anger on the other side is threatening to tear them open at any moment. She can let them down... and she's tempted. She knows that she can let them down and the sudden emotional assault will be enough to disorient him, make him leave... she's seen it almost happen before by accident, she can certainly do it on purpose. It's the only means of defense she has against him if she needed it, of course it's something she's noticed.
She doesn't do that though. Instead she hovers in the doorway and stares at him, and when her words come they're slow and precise. "You brought me out here because your wife had a vision that you were going to love me." It's not a question, but a clarification. She still hasn't moved. "You decide to tell me this now, after I used limited resources to get here, to bring me to a group of people who are going to struggle with the desire to eat me, because you were going to love me?" Her jaw tenses and her wall cracks, heat spitting out. "What if I don't fall in love, did you think about that?"
And she seals it up again, because it's not going to help her right now and she knows it. Natasha patches the wall before she presses forward. "And even if I did, how did you expect that to work? You can barely come near me without having to run away, is that your plan? I fall in love with a man who can't stand to be close to me?" If he were anybody else, she would have already left... after smashing a few things. Yet Natasha can't bring herself to do that, instead she wants to hear what he has to say, and a little part of her hates herself for even entertaining that idea. "Or a woman I don't know who also can't stand to be close to me, I'm assuming."