Healing of A Broken Heart

Hopes and Promises

Nothing hurt more than false hope.

You had hoped that this time things would be different.

You had hoped that this time Wanda would choose you.

You had hoped... but hope was nothing more than a fool's wish.

///

The drinks came at a steady rate, perfectly in sync with the aching in your heart.

Wanda was with Vision.

A shot of whiskey.

She loved him.

Another shot.

Not you.

Another.

You let the alcohol do its work, your mind growing foggy with each glass. One shot. Two shots. Three. Eventually you lost count but that didn't matter: all that mattered was that the pain in your heart had been washed away.

The bartender seemed to pity you. He had stopped coming back a while ago and you would've been angry, but you were honestly too drunk to even register complex emotions like that.

God, you were pathetic. Wanda was with Vision, doing who knows what, and you were just sitting there, drinking away your sorrows. Maybe this was why she chose him over and over again. Vision wasn't afraid to go after what he wanted, he didn't wallow in self pity and regret. The glorified toaster was better at expressing his feelings than you. With a groan, you banged your head onto the bar counter.

"You okay?" A concerned voice asked and you faintly felt the feeling of someone's hand on your shoulder. Barely able to keep your head up, you struggled to turn towards the voice.

Natasha stood by your side, worry written across her face. Dressed in a tight red dress and 4 inch stiletto, she looked like someone right out of a James Bond movie, makeup and all. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, or the loneliness reaching its peak, but you felt a sudden pull towards her. Dark red hair, seductive full lips, and mischievous green eyes: Natasha looked like the answer to all your problems.

"Mhm, much better now that you're here." You heard yourself husk out, the words slurring together a bit. Her forehead creased, eyes narrowing slightly in surprise, but you saw a hint of amusement behind them as well.

"The mountain of empty shot glasses suggest otherwise." She observed.

You gave her a carefree shrug, "Just enjoying the party." The smile she gave you took your breath away.

Natasha was still talking, but her words weren't being heard by you anymore. Entranced by the woman in front of you, you leaned in a little, the alcohol already having washed away all inhibition. Her green eyes were mesmerizing. They were like a lush evergreen forest and you wanted nothing more than to get lost in them. There was an overwhelming need to forget: to forget the image of Wanda in Vision's arms; to forget the feeling of Wanda's in yours; to forget the aching inside. Your eyes flitted down to Natasha's red lips, they looked inviting and you wondered how she tasted.

The distance between you steadily decreased as you leaned in more and your lips opened slightly in anticipation. You pushed away the tiny voice in your head screaming at you to stop.

A hand roughly jerked you back, almost sending you tumbling to the floor. You shook you head in daze, disoriented. A new face came into view, but your sight was blurry and unfocused from the sudden movement.

"What the hell (Y/N)?!" Someone demanded. It sounded familiar, but you couldn't quite connect a face to the voice. "I leave you for a bit and find you making a move on Natasha?"