𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐍.𝐑-𝐖.𝐌

𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 - 𝐀

(You might need some tisue, sorry not sorry 🥰💅)

Natasha... never planned for this to happen.

She just feels so.. depressed. Down. Not really sad, but.. whatever is more than that.

She feels bad. She feels bad and it's painful and unforgiving and horribly all-consuming. It's a black hole that's going to take her, suck her into it whether she wants it to or not. She doesn't know how to escape it- if there's even a real way to at all-stuck laying in her bed like she has been for the past four days.

She doesn't eat, her appetite nearly nonexistent. Deep down she doesn't think she'd deserve food either way, if she even did have an appetite. She's too tired to get up anyway.

She mostly sleeps through the days. Her limbs feel as heavy as lead, and the mere thought of getting up feels exhausting, like it would take all her effort and more that she doesn't even have the courage to muster.

She's tired. So, so horribly tired.

But no amount of sleep ever seems to cure it.

Her phone buzzes beside her, buried somewhere under the countless blankets laying over her. Her room is freezing, but it might just be that she's always cold nowadays anyway. Its an annoyance akin to the way her stupid phone never stops buzzing, even when she ignores it.

It only stops in short intervals, or when she lets it die. She remembers the last time charging it being sometime this morning, before she fell asleep again an hour or so later. When she looks over at the clock on her bedside table, it reads nearly 6 P.M. Her phone buzzes again, and she lets out a frusturate, only slightly dramatic sigh.

Turning over feels like an overly-effortful task in itself. From what she can see through the window next to her bed, the sun is beginning to set (she ignores the way it means that she's slept through the day once again), and the screen of her phone is much too bright when she turns it on to look at the notifications.

She winces, turning down the brightness. They're mostly discord notifications and text messages, even a few missed calls from some of her friends.

She sighs again, letting her phone fall onto the sheets beside her. No amount of scrubbing at her eyes seems to rid her of the bone-deep exhaustion, and she can't bring herself to feel bad for isolating herself. When she doesn't feel sad, she feels numb, and right now seems to she one of those times.

Natasha's phone buzzes again, and she suddenly comes to a rather aggrivating realization: she really needs to pee.

It takes about fifteen minutes for Natasha to actually find the will to get up. When she does, her head pounds and a shiver runs down her spine, and she has to force herself not to sway so much that she nearly falls over. When she stumbles into the bathroom, she closes the door a little harder than she meant to, and it only serves to make her head hurt worse.

She does her business, slightly wishing she had enough desire to shower because her hair is so greasy, but she hasn't been able to bring himself to do anything about it. Looking in the mirror is enough to tell her she looks like shit, and it's still somehow not enough to get her not to go back to her bed after this.

When she washes his hands, they tremor something horrible.

It reminds her of this one time when she was staying over at Wanda's house.

Maria was still in the US then, and the three of them decided to sleep on the floor of the extended room Wanda had built into the side of her house. Wanda could've slept in her bed, Maria could've slept on the couch, but they all ultimately decided to sleep on the floor on extra mattresses they'd scrapped together that Wanda had.