Professor Romanoff's Angel

68

Y/N's POV

The cafeteria is lavish and clean, just like the rest of the school, it makes Liberty look like a elementary school. Brook leads me to a table with a few people sitting at it,

"Hey guys, this is Y/N." She says, "She's new here."
"Hey." One of the men says, waving, he's got bleached hair and an undercut. He's fairly stylish, to be honest. "I'm Angelo." He shakes my hand.

"Hey, I'm Elizabeth." One of the women says to me, she's got long blonde hair.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Levi." The other male says with a smile.
"It's good to meet you all."

"Have you got money in your account yet?" Brook asks,
"Not yet, my girlfriend packed me some lunch though." I say with a smile.
"Oh, that's sweet." Angelo says, "What did she give you?"
"Just some sandwiches." I sit down next to Brook and take out the plastic container Natasha gave me.

My phone starts ringing,
"Oh, speak of the Devil." I say, excusing myself from the table.
"Hey, Angel." She says as I answer the phone, "You're at lunch, right?"
"I am, are you? How was work so far?" I say,
"It's been okay, I think the students like me, actually. You were right." She says.
"That's good. I told you, you just have to be hot." I say, and then I remember Professor Maximoff.

"Oh right, Natasha, is Maximoff's husband a teacher?"
"Yes, why? No wait, he doesn't work there, does he?"
"You didn't know?" I ask,
"No, I knew he worked somewhere else but I didn't think it was Eastside. You don't have him as a teacher, do you?"
"No, no. I don't. But I feel like he should know." I say to her, she makes a small hum noise.
"Wanda told me a while ago that she was leaving him. I don't know if she actually is, but that's what she said." Natasha says, "you aren't alone, are you?"

"No, I'm not. I met some people and they let me have lunch with them."
"Just be cautious, okay? I don't want you to get hurt again."
"Of course, I love you." I say to her,
"I love you more, Angel, have fun."
"You too." I say, she hangs up and I walk back to the table.

"You seem cute together." Elizabeth says,
"Yeah, it's just the way you were talking to her." Levi agrees. I laugh to myself.
"I'm glad you guys think so. It took us a while to get there." I say, they all look somewhat concerned.
"What do you mean by that?" Brook asks,
"Oh, I just mean that a lot of the people around us weren't too happy with our relationship, we weren't really allowed to be close without being judged."
"Ohh." Angelo nods.

Romanoff's POV

I get out of my car, having parked it near the front of the university, and start walking to the side of the building. Y/N told me they were hanging out near a fountain around the right side.

Sure enough, I see her and four other people sitting by a fountain. Y/N has her patterned shirt off, her tank top underneath is revealing her arms as she whips the shirt at one of the boys. Water falls from the shirt as she whips it and they all seem to laugh.

I walk over to her as she ties the shirt around her waist and turns to see me. She waves and jogs over to me, wrapping her arms around me when we get close. Her body is cold and covered in water, just like the rest of the people she's with. Probably from the fountain... what have they been doing?

I place my hands firmly on her ass and squeeze, she laughs and pulls away from the hug.
"There's people watching, you know?" She says through her laughter.
"I know." I respond, she turns and starts introducing me to everyone.

She introduces me Angelo, the white haired boy that she was whipping her shirt at, and the rest of them too. I don't like the way Angelo looks at her.
"Nice hair." I say with a bitter tone, Y/N smiles and holds my waist.
"It is nice hair, isn't it?" She says, nodding.
"Thank you." Angelo responds with half a smile.

Y/N doesn't compliment my hair. You think she'd point out the blonde ends if she points out some white in someone else's hair. She did tell me she likes when my hair is down before... and so I pull at the band keeping my hair up and let it flow down my shoulders. I watch as Y/N's mouth opens and her eyes twinkle in awe. She still doesn't say anything though, she just pecks me on the cheek as hers turn a shade lighter.

Why does she compliment him but not me? Has she gotten bored of the sight of me?

"Can we go?" I ask, "I'd love to stay and chat but there's something serious back home I need to show you."
She turns to look at me, confusion on her face.
"Uh, sure. I'll see you guys tomorrow." She says to everyone, they all wave and say their goodbyes. They say goodbye to me too, I respond with a small nod and smile.

When we get in the car, I start up the engine but keep the radio off.
"You're wet." I say, she looks down and nods,
"Oh right, yeah. We were just messing around in the fountain." She says, I keep my eyes forward as she looks at me.

"Are you okay, Natasha? What was the serious thing you were talking about?" She asks,
"You'll see when we get there." I grip the steering wheel and keep driving.

Y/N's POV

Is Natasha mad at me? When we got home, there were no sweet kisses like usual. She just got out of the car and walked inside, she barely even looked at me. And the face she made when Angelo sent me a text was one that could only be described as rage, though I can't, for the life of me, figure out why.

"Go to the bedroom, please." She says, I put my bag down and take my coat off and then I walk to the bedroom. Nothing's changed though, what did she want to show me? I turn around and she's leaning on the doorway with a small knife in her hand, holding the point of it with her other hand. A trail of blood runs down her finger.

"Natasha, what are you-"
"This is what I wanted to show you, Angel."
"Natasha." I say again as she walks towards me, licking the blood from her finger and holding the knife forward towards me. I fall back onto the bed as I try to back away from her. She puts the knife to my arm and runs it over my skin gently, not enough to pierce me but definitely enough to send shivers rapidly down my spine. She speaks with a Russian accent and says words that I can't understand, not even a little bit.

"Do you know what that means?" She says, keeping the knife near my collarbone as her other hand reaches up to my face and holds me tenderly.
"No." I stutter, terrified to move.
"Well, it means that this is what happens when you misbehave."

She grabs the neckline of my tank top and runs the knife through it, cutting the fabric with ease.
"Раздеться." She says, but I'm still none the wiser. She stabs the knife into the wall next to her, piercing the surface of it and letting dust fall to the floor. She then walks to the open door.
"That means 'strip', dear. You better be ready for me when I get back." And she leaves the room.