Insatiable Habits

Intrusion

Slamming the mahogany door of your room shut and locking it, you backed away and slid down against the wall - holding your face in your hands as you let the emotions flow from your eyes. Being truthful, you weren't entirely sure why you were so distressed. Yet you allowed yourself this moment of release before picking yourself up and forcing yourself into a shower. You peeled off your layers slowly, as you were still experiencing an ache where you had torn a muscle whilst your gashes and cuts were still relatively fresh.

You stood for a moment, taking in the sight of yourself in the mirror. Some wounds on your lower abdomen were sewn, some taped over. You hadn't done that, Natasha had. You run your fingers over the intricate work and pondered the perfection in the stitching.

Before you could analyse this any further you turned and started the water.

Only shortly after you had rinsed yourself carefully under the too-hot water, had you become unnerved, hearing your doorknob be toyed with violently. Jumping out and wrapping yourself tightly with a towel you leave the bathroom cautiously, only to find a nonchalant looking Wanda at the edge of your bed and Natasha stood dominantly in the doorway. You gawk at them, feeling foolish for harbouring such great fear over what could have been breaking into your room.

"What's the intrusion about, then ?"
You direct the question towards Wanda, still feeling bitter towards Natasha due to earlier.
"Nat told me to open the door. I didn't really think about asking questions so, here we are ?" The witch replied in a matter-of-factly tone.
You turn to Natasha, waiting on an explanation. She holds your gaze for a moment, causing your cheeks to flare. Your eyesight then falls to the floor as her eyes shoot like darts in your direction. Her piercing gaze then falls on Wanda, who stands to excuse herself from the room, replacing Natasha in the open doorway.
"Oh, I don't think you need to leave, Wanda". You call after her, trying to mask your discomfort of being left alone with Natasha. She doesn't hear you, yet Natasha interrupts.
"Oh, I think she does".

You gulp, unintentionally visibly, which draws a mischievous smirk from the red head who is eyeing you like game.
Usually, Natasha's rare playfulness would flatter you, but today you had no tolerance for it. For her.
"Romanoff explain what you're doing here or leave".
Her expression turns at the sharpness of your tone.
"Now".

"Y/N, why do I get the impression that you are feeling...hostile towards me right now ?".
Was she joking ? Truthfully, you couldn't tell. On one hand, you were baffled that she could reach such a level of idiocy - considering she is a world renowned spy you would expect her to possess perhaps slightly more of a social compass than she was displaying in this moment. On the other hand, you considered that maybe she was being genuine and was sincerely confused by your coldness.

Your thoughts lingered for just a second more before you scoffed. Loudly.

"Are you fucking serious, Romanoff ?".
Natasha cocked her eyebrows at your language.
"Learning big girl worlds now, are we Y/N ?".
The widow's tone disarmed your bluntness. To your disappointment, you were beginning to submit to the presence of the woman, allowing her to command the room and speak as she planned to.

"I'm here to apologise, not to joke. Earlier, during training, maybe I was too hard. Maybe."
You stay within her eyeshot, waiting for continuation.
"Is that all you have in you ?" Comes your reply.
"I truly am sorry, Y/N. Really, if I've hurt you, I'll help you clean up".
A sincere look plasters the woman's face. You can't help but feel guilty for your adamant dismissal of her when this conversation opened. Yet you cannot help your sardonic tone.
"Oh clean me up like last week ? Really, Romanoff. You are so unpredictable I never know what to think".
Her previous sincerity morphs to concern. She seems unnerved by the mention of that night. It disrupts your train of thought as you analyse her expression. She catches your eye before quickly looking down at her feet.
"I'm not sure what you mean, Y/N".
You forcefully push open the door to the bathroom, catching Natasha's attention while gesturing towards the bathtub.
"You brought me here. Right here. Stripped me, comforted me, took care of me. Stroked my face and held me before putting me to sleep. And then, I ask you to stay ?"
You pause, taking a breath and for a moment you attempt to read Natasha's face, but she remains peering away from you - avoiding your stare.
"You don't stay. The next fucking morning you pretend as if I'm not even there."
She finally looks up.
"Listen, Y/N-"
"No, Natasha. Then today, you push me far too far, knowing yourself that I'm hurt. For what ? So you can come back here and take my clothes off again ? Put a wet cloth to some more bleeding wounds ? Natasha, what do you want from me ?"
She remains still and silent in front of you. Only then do you become aware of the open door to your room.
Walking over, as you pass Natasha she grabs your wrist, stopping you firmly. You look to your wrist in the woman's hand then to her face.

She goes to speak and as you share her look fixedly, she backs down and looks away. She lets go and exits the room, to your silent dismay. You shut the door gently behind her and rest your head on the hard wood.

Did Natasha hurt you today, just so she could come back here like last week ?

No. Your thoughts were skewed due to the situation. She can't have.

She wouldn't.