𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒
a simple story
where an attack
on the royal family
creates an everlasting bond
between two 'lucky' teens
post-aou | 2015
pietro maximoff x female oc
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❝ Actually, I want you to go talk to Romanoff. She's... she's good at matters like this. ❞
AT AROUND 3:30 PM THAT AFTERNOON, Catalina was surprised to hear a knock at the door. She had been hearing little whispers from the other side all day, effectively learning how to tune out the extra noise. She had used the TV on the wall to entertain herself, trying to ignore the urge to check the news channels.
She was fully aware that the Spanish catastrophe would be all over the news. It'd be easy to figure out what was going on outside of her "quarantine." The Avengers probably wouldn't tell her; it was extremely stressful, and Catalina didn't need to stress herself out.
Even though not knowing stressed her out anyways.
It felt like a constant circle; wake up, worry, worry some more, think about food, fall asleep, repeat. Catalina knew that this wasn't healthy. It didn't take a genius to recognize how undeniably destructive this routine would be for her mental health, but she couldn't break the cycle.
Maybe the visitor at the door could help?
"Come in," She called out from her comforter cocoon. Her voice had a new-found rasp that she hadn't expected to find. Catalina's focus settled on the guest on the other side, the guest revealing himself slowly.
His chocolate-brown hair was slightly spiked, and he had a look in his eye that told Catalina that he had seen the worst part of the world. He had muscles that were hidden under his light-grey shirt, and Catalina noticed the presence of a hearing aid in his left ear.
"Can I come in?" The softness in his tone seemed to work. Catalina's walls lowered a bit, allowing the man to enter. The guest didn't shut the door completely, something that Catalina was grateful for. He had a calming aura that most of the other Avengers didn't carry with them.
He could sense the tension that was strapped to Catalina's back. He couldn't blame her; if he were in her shoes, he would've lost his mind long ago.
"Hey, I just wanted to make sure you were ok." He gave a subtle nod as Catalina struggled to remember his name. It was on the tip of her tongue, so why didn't she remember? C-something? "Just yell if you need us."
"Got it," Catalina fiddled with the lining of the blanket, her nails picking apart the strong threads that held the blanket together. "Thank you."
"No problem." The guest left as quickly as he arrived. Catalina returned to her routine, and this time, she was on step three; worry some more.
When the guest shut the door, he looked at Natasha, who had been leaning on the wall and listening to the conversation attentively. "At least she let you in, Clint."
"Progress makes perfect. That's what they say, right?"
