𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝘕𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘢 𝘙𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧 [✓]

Ch. 32 Your Loss [𝔢.]

Word count: 2.36k

Eliza's POV:

I slip into the shower, standing under the wash of water as it soaks into my hair. As I take a moment to check over my wound, I brush a hand over the healed skin. It's starting to scar. I cup my hand to catch the shampoo before rubbing it into my scalp, raking a hand through wet hair.

The sudden flush of cold air hits me, sending goosebumps flying down my skin. Shivering, I wrap my towel around my shoulders and leave the bathroom, into the weird warmth of the bedroom. I hear a whistle behind me and I cling tighter to my towel. I take a look over my shoulder to see Nat leaning against the door frame. She smirks at me. A blush filters into my cheeks, turning them warm.

"Go away, Romanoff." I whine.

"Oh, honey." She tuts, "am I not allowed to admire the body of the woman I love-?"

"Not when she's vulnerable like this, you pervert. Get gone before I make you."

"Someone's fiery tonight. Alright," laughs Nat, her smile warming me up a little. "I put your outfit in the closet. I'll get you in fifteen."

I nod curtly and she leaves. I throw my towel to the side and slip on some underwear and a black laced bra. Sighing, I rub a sore spot on my shoulder gently, testing the skin with care. I don't know how much pressure the material could handle, Cho hadn't told me that much when she patched me up. Like Barton, Dr Cho ran the machine over my shoulder, tethering new man-made shit to my body. Work's a treat, honestly, it's just a little odd to touch.

I fling the closet doors open, revealing a deep, scarlet-red dress, knee length and skin tight. I admire the material for a few moments before slipping into it, tugging it over my thighs. God dammit, that woman knows me so well.

I dab my face with a brush of makeup and take a seat on the bed, waiting for Nat to knock.

It comes a few minutes later. I stand and rush to the door, opening it quickly. Nat looks me up and down before staring me directly in the eyes. "You look amazing."

"Thanks, love. You look . . ." I don't know what to say. I really don't know what to say.

"Speechless is a good look on you," she laughs. I scrunch my nose at her. The golden thread of her matching red suit glimmers in the dimmed light of the hallway.

"Sure." I retaliate. "Come on, lets get to dinner before Tony murders us for being late."

We share a laugh before she outreaches a hand for me to take hold of, which I do with grace. She inclines her head as if mocking a bow, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. With our heels clacking on the veneered floor, we make our way to the others, who are already crowded around the dinner table, a long thing that stood firmly in the centre of what could be called a dinning room - but it's more of a transformed conference room. Eyes fall on us as we enter, wolf-whistles float through the air. I feel Wanda's smile before I see it, bright and happy, for me.

Nat pulls out a chair for me and when I sit, she tucks it in just far enough. She then takes a seat next to me.

"Well, don't you two make just the couple." Tony grins, white teeth showing. I feel my cheeks turn red.

"You've made Nat go soft, Liz." Steve laughs, sparing a glance at Nat. He stares her down and she glares back at him with venom in her eyes.

"Are we gonna start?" I ask quickly, ready to ease the playful tension between the two. "Either, Nat and Steve will fight or the food will go cold."

Wanda nods. "She's got a point."

"Thanks, Wands."

"For once," she shoots me a smirk, "you didn't let me finish."