Lovesick | Natasha Romanoff (GxG)

Part 2; The Painful Reunion

~Y/N's Pov~

As I approach the interrogation room, my heart begins pounding in my chest. I've been trying to prepare myself for this moment, but the emotions I feel at the thought of facing Natasha after all these years are too overwhelming.
I don't know how Natasha will react to seeing me again, but I know that I have to keep it together and do my job.
I take a deep breath and reach out for the iron door's handle, determined to keep it together and do my job.
I have to stay focused and try to set aside my emotions in order to get the information I need. I have to be professional, but something tells me when I see her, I'll wish I never had taken this job.

After a few seconds of hesitating, I finally collect my bearings and shook off the overwhelming feeling. Although, that feeling immediately hit me again once I opened the door. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Natasha slumped back in the wooden chair, her hands cuffed to the table. All I have to do is play calm and be collective, I shouldn't bring up our past.

As Natasha looked up at me, I immediately got full on body chills. A hint of disbelief appears in her eyes, followed by a mixture of emotions that I can't quite understand. There's a hint of anger, a dash of awkwardness, and a pinch of regret. I can see that Natasha hasn't changed much, still stern and intimidating, but there's only her physical appearance that I've never seen before, almost like she's had a glow-up. For a moment, time seems to slow down as we stare at each other, us both awkward and quiet.

I clear my throat and close the door behind me, forcing myself to stop looking at her. I took the case files in my hand before spinning around on my heels to face her. I just need to act professional. This is a criminal I'm speaking to after all.

I felt her eyes burning through my soul.

"Evening, Miss Romanoff." I greet, a lot weaker than I expected.

I took a seat at the opposite side of the iron table, sitting down across from her.

I scatter my files and papers in front of me in the silence. I guess she still needs to process seeing me. I try focusing on sorting everything, keep my head low, and try my best not to look up at her.

"Well, if this isn't a surprise..." She whispers.

I look up and meet her eyes. Fire in them, her slouching back in the chair, not going far because of the handcuffs.

I ignore her comment and sigh. I bit down on my back teeth forcefully, folding my arms and placing them on the table. I lean forward.

I said, "Let's get straight to business," 

All she does is raise her eyebrow, gesturing that she's intrigued.
"On the night of Anton Dreykov's murder. You were last seen on the cameras, walking around the hallways of Mr. Dreykov's apartment floor." I slide a photo the camera's took of her on the table, "Mind explaining to me why you did so, Miss Romanoff?" I question.

She quickly glanced down at the picture then scoffed, eyes landing onto me again. "Are you serious right now? 'Miss Romanoff'? Cut the act, Y/N."

"That's agent L/N to you, now please if you could just answer the-"

"So I was walking down the hallway. Does that make me the murderer..?" She says sarcastically, "...'Agent L/N'?"

I clench my jaw. She doesn't want to see me right now, especially in this position. She's already boiling my blood, and I have a feeling this is going to be a long, long, long day.