23 days later.
Natasha still couldn't cope with the loss of her fiancé. Even three weeks after the tragic day it's no easier. Everywhere she looked she saw Anya. The colour of the walls, the smell of her clothes, the car in the garage, her toiletries, the memories attached to each and every item was overbearing, and Natasha couldn't stand to stay in that house so she left.
She walked down the long gravel road to the gate, leaving the huge compound, sponsored by a huge A, in the distance. She reached around her back and pulled a box of cigarettes out of her back pocket. Then a lighter out of her right pocket. She didn't care that it was bad for her, or that Anya would scold her for it, it was an easy way to relieve the pain.
The sweet, warm feeling that spread in her chest as she inhaled the smoke, tarring her lungs, was the closest feeling of Anya's touch, her presence. The feeling of content as she exhaled was enough to make it worth it.
She sparked the cigarette after a couple of clicks, brought the paper to her lips and ever lightly held the drug between her teeth. She took the bud in her fingers and took a deep and drawn out inhale, the warm feeling of the smoke dispersing in her lungs an immediate relief for her pain. Her eyes closed in pleasure as she held her breath for just a moment before breathing out.
She swiped her access card on the pad and the large metal gate slid open. She stepped out and the gate closed behind her. She looked left and right before leaning back on the wall beside the gate, pulling her, or rather Anya's, black leather jacket down.
She took the butt of the cigarette in her teeth, then taking another long drag.
Before she could breathe out a young girl approached her from the right. Natasha quickly exhaled and dropped the cigarette on the sidewalk, then stomping on it with the the heel of her black boots.
She must be about 5, had dark brown almost black hair, shallow brown eyes made glossy by a thin layer of tears. She looked a little disheveled, hair hair a little messy and her clothes dusty and crinkled. Natasha didn't know wether it was because she was mourning the loss of her lover or because she really did, but she looked a lot like Anya. All the way down to the slight upturn of her nose and the way her eyes shifted as she inched closer and closer to a stranger.
The child came right up to her as she ducked down to her level. "Erm, ar-ar-are you black widow?" She asks hesitantly. Natasha can see the fear in her eyes, it's the same fear that she saw that day, the day Anya got blipped.
"I am." She says bluntly, asking herself what it is she could be doing here. And she asks herself where her parents could be, seeing as there's no adult in sight.
"I can't find my momma." She says, a shaky breath escaping the little girls mouth. Natasha's mind instantly comes to the conclusion that they suffered the same fate as Anya. What other explanation could there be.
Natasha looks down at the pavement, not wanting to see the pain in the poor girls brown eyes. It reminded her too much of Anya, the pair of them were almost identical.
"I'm sorry. Do you know what happened?" Natasha's asks, expecting the answer to be no, of course. How would someone her age believe any of what she would explain.
"No, I just want my mommy." She says solemnly. She slowly steps towards Natasha, who's on one knee, her hand resting on the other. She girl approaches further and further, eventually resting a hand on Natasha's.
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Long Time No See • Natasha Romanoff
Fanfiction"Do we know who she's is, or where she comes from?" "No, she's a ghost" "I know her" "How? Who is she?" "She was my girlfriend" When two childhood lovers are separated from one another to become the greatest female assassin this world had ever seen...