Do You Dance? (Romanogers)

Do You Dance?

"And I question you, do you dance?"

A husky, yet seductive voice interrupts my thoughts, now they are lost, scattered around in my mind like puzzle pieces. I need some time to put them back together, but I don't have the mood to. I inhale, before turning to where the crisp, luscious voice came from. There behind me stands a woman with hair as red as flames, her maroon locks droop neatly on her shoulders. Her sharp, green eyes remind me of shiny, glistening emeralds that shine beautifully. The woman's full, plump nude lips are worth for any man to desire for and to kiss them. The redhead has perfect features that most women will wish for, enough to seduce a man to bed, but strangely I am not attracted by her beauty.

Her question stabs me through my heart like a dagger, an unknown kind of pain overwhelms me and it is simply painful. It's not because of the way the redhead asked, a simple word 'dance' already brings up so many memories, full of bittersweet. In fact, the bitter tasted more than the sweetness. I'm feeling weary and uncomfortable of the redhead's question, and how badly I want to ignore her question and leave. But something- my instinct tells me to not leave and answer her.

"What do you want, Natasha?"

I answer back coldly, before I notice my tone sounded icy and harsh towards Natasha. The sound of her black heels are clicking, and she's walking towards me. I regret for answering back rudely, and I didn't mean it. I admit that Natasha's a beautiful, daring woman, but she hates anyone that sees her as only a 'woman' and only the girl member in the Avengers team. That, I admire her strength for, on how she faces her past so casually and shrugs it off like that. I have only read the main details of Natasha's profile, mostly her data. She's code named after a poisonous spider called the Black Widow. I was stunned when Natasha asked me if I dance. I managed to read in a tiny part of her back story, though it was classified, I had the access. I don't realize Natasha is observing me quietly until it takes her a while just to answer my question.

"I was a ballerina, Steve. And I can read your expressions."

Natasha replies calmly, she seems unmoved on how I shot back at her icily. She is probably used to that, or she is enduring it. She still wears on her trademark poker face, but the only thing missing from her is her famous smirk. Natasha knows this is not the right time, she's trying to help me but I don't feel it from her. According to my current mood, I'm feeling extremely down and I want to be alone.

"Just go away, Romanoff."

My tone softens, the iciness and harshness that were once in my tone has faded away. I have my back facing her, but I still can feel her presence. She still stands there, I feel her piercing emerald eyes on me. I remain silent and expect Natasha to leave, thinking that she's wasting her time on me. Instead, the words that come out from her mouth strike me once again.

"She's a good lady." Natasha says plainly, clearly she doesn't understand what kind of agony I am facing. And again, the Black Widow is famous for being emotionless. I don't really blame her for reacting neutrally. A pang of sadness hits me painfully and I fight back tears, yet I feel angered and how badly I want to yell at Natasha. But what's the point of shouting at her? Will Peggy appear in front of my eyes if I did? I feel a lump of hot air formed within my throat and I try to swallow it down. A blurred image of an auburn haired woman forms in my mind, but I still can identify her. I will never forget how she looks, her voice in my ears. Anything about her.

"Positive." I nod and answer Natasha, what else can I tell her? She probably knows everything already, and I hate to be wordy. All I can think about is Peggy and I can't concentrate on Natasha. I hear her walking towards my direction again, her head tilted upwards a little to meet my baby blue eyes.