He moves as if he's been struck and Natasha would almost think that he's moving to attach her if he didn't look just as confused as she does. Then he relaxes as if nothing happens, and in her state Natasha would almost believe that if it wasn't for the tears that now exist in her couch. There's something going on with him and she hasn't been able to deduce exactly what that is yet, all she knows is that he has a list of strange abilities that she has little to no experience with and that it might not even matter, depending on the decisions made within the next sixty seconds.
He seems confused by her and at first she doesn't know why. All of this seems to have taken the most direct and simple road in her eyes, and his eventual reply has her arching an inquisitive eyebrow as if she's just realizing, perhaps they aren't on the same page after all. "When you're living on stolen time, you'd be surprised at how ready you are to lose it to someone else." Natasha has been waiting for this moment, and Jasper can't possibly know that the situation is, in her eyes, ideal. She walked into this knowing that it could happen, he isn't taking her life; she's giving it to him, if he so chooses. In the end, Natasha has a say, and he can't take that from her. Nobody can. Because of that, this is as much a win for her as it could ever be.
"Unless pushed?" It isn't accusatory in the least; simply curious. "You haven't been pushed? Being separated from your family because a strange woman falls into your life and ruins everything that you've tried to build for yourself, that isn't being pushed? I don't think you understand, Jasper." She leans forward with ease, her elbows resting on her knees so that her fingers can twine together and her hands can hang loosely between them. "If I thought that you weren't capable of self control then I wouldn't have gotten you out in the first place, that isn't why I'm here. If I were you, I'd want me dead." Stark honesty. It's still something that she's trying to get used to. "I thought that I owed you that opportunity, but from what I'm seeing, you aren't ready to take it just yet." That doesn't mean he won't tomorrow, or the day after; Natasha knows that. She has no purpose anymore, every decision that she's ever had to make was made for her up until now.
"I can't fix all of the things I just found out I've done." She shrugs weakly with one shoulder. "But I can try to fix one, so here I am. And I will be until you decide if you want to do something about it. Until then," she stands slowly with a sigh, and Natasha turns her back on him without hesitation so she can walk toward the kitchen. "I have to finish my stew." She stops only once to linger in the kitchen doorway, and she glances over her shoulder halfway. "If you're not going to kill me, you're fixing that couch. We don't live like animals."
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He seems confused by her and at first she doesn't know why. All of this seems to have taken the most direct and simple road in her eyes, and his eventual reply has her arching an inquisitive eyebrow as if she's just realizing, perhaps they aren't on the same page after all. "When you're living on stolen time, you'd be surprised at how ready you are to lose it to someone else." Natasha has been waiting for this moment, and Jasper can't possibly know that the situation is, in her eyes, ideal. She walked into this knowing that it could happen, he isn't taking her life; she's giving it to him, if he so chooses. In the end, Natasha has a say, and he can't take that from her. Nobody can. Because of that, this is as much a win for her as it could ever be.
"Unless pushed?" It isn't accusatory in the least; simply curious. "You haven't been pushed? Being separated from your family because a strange woman falls into your life and ruins everything that you've tried to build for yourself, that isn't being pushed? I don't think you understand, Jasper." She leans forward with ease, her elbows resting on her knees so that her fingers can twine together and her hands can hang loosely between them. "If I thought that you weren't capable of self control then I wouldn't have gotten you out in the first place, that isn't why I'm here. If I were you, I'd want me dead." Stark honesty. It's still something that she's trying to get used to. "I thought that I owed you that opportunity, but from what I'm seeing, you aren't ready to take it just yet." That doesn't mean he won't tomorrow, or the day after; Natasha knows that. She has no purpose anymore, every decision that she's ever had to make was made for her up until now.
"I can't fix all of the things I just found out I've done." She shrugs weakly with one shoulder. "But I can try to fix one, so here I am. And I will be until you decide if you want to do something about it. Until then," she stands slowly with a sigh, and Natasha turns her back on him without hesitation so she can walk toward the kitchen. "I have to finish my stew." She stops only once to linger in the kitchen doorway, and she glances over her shoulder halfway. "If you're not going to kill me, you're fixing that couch. We don't live like animals."