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missromanova ([personal profile] missromanova) wrote in [personal profile] moodshifter 2017-02-28 02:53 am (UTC)

"No." Natasha responds flatly, and for the first time her eyes seem to darken with something that comes from within her seeping to the surface and changing her demeanor. Her body tenses, the walls that she's built around her heart and emotions strengthen in an almost strategic manner, and it's obvious now that he's sensing exactly what she wants him to and nothing more. The anger is on the surface now, thick and stubborn as it shields everything below in her depths, and it's veined with the sort of discomfort that can be construed as suspicion. "Don't say it like that, you didn't ask me to come and left it to me, you misled me, Hale." Her jaw sets firmly. "You sold this to me as a potential new safe group, a new team. Not love, you said nothing about love. Don't try to justify your actions to me, you can't lie to a liar."

She looks away from him, and Natasha takes a deep breath as she tries to calm herself. "I knew this was too good to be true." She says it more to herself than to him, and in reality that's what she's upset about. Natasha is angry at herself, because these things don't happen. New teams, new families... they don't just fall into your lap when you're Natasha Romanoff. They're calculated and forced upon you, and you pay the price with honor and blood. "You waited until you dragged me across half the country before telling me that I can 'go' if I want to, don't pat yourself on the back." She tries to sound cold and she does, but her emotions begin to betray her, disappointment and anxiety seeping in to chew away at the hot anger that fills her.

That's the worst part of it. She likes being around him, she's enjoyed these days driving with him, watching him attentively keep her warm and drive through the night. She liked watching the side of his face as she tried to sleep in the back seat, eyes flashing that beautiful shade of amber every time they drove past a street lamp. She liked hearing about his past and Thor help her, she liked sharing her own with him. She feels foolish, and raw. The realization comes with her wrapping her arms around herself, and her face saddens with a weary sort of dejection as she stares off at the wall.

"I understand the distinction," she manages after a prolonged stretch of silence, her voice softer now with a touch of dismayed hopelessness. "The distinction doesn't really matter though, does it? Results matter. The result is that I can barely touch your shoulder without you having to run ten miles away from me, that's what I'm alone in, Jasper. Not in distinction, in reality."

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