The lights drowned out the heavy grief setting on her heart, facing towards the back side window of the car and choosing to count each twinkling light from the city below. This is all the time she has left, she'll cherish it for as long as it lasts.
The older woman refuses to look at them both, choosing to stare straight ahead. The silence sinking into her skin, a heavy chain crushing at her gut. She doesn't want to go back, she doesn't want them to go back.
The man drives, he looks content. He doesn't have to worry.
The youngest is confused, no shoes on her feet. She doesn't know what's coming, she was told it was a big adventure but it doesn't feel like one, but she knows she doesn't like the silence. The blonde girl looks over to the blue haired girl, why isn't her sister talking to her?
"I want my song." it wasn't a request, it was a demand.
Silence continued to fill the car.
"I want my song!" the blonde spoke more clearly. When Yelena wants something, she usually gets it.
A long, long time ago
I can still remember how that music
Used to make me smile
The blonde smiled, singing along quietly. Her song was on, she was safe.
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And maybe they'd be happy for a while
The eldest woman wanted to choke on a sob, she breathed out steadily. She wasn't allowed to cry. She was made out of marble.
But February made me shiver
With every paper I'd deliver
Bad news on the doorstep
I couldn't take one more step
I can't remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride
Something touched me deep inside
The day the music died
The blue haired girl continued to count the city lights in her head, zoning out the pain that was to come. They'd never be safe.
"net-net-net! net! vy nay mozhete imet eye! ona moya! ostanovka." (no, no, no! no! You can't have her! She's mine! Stop.) A red headed woman whispered silently in her sleep, her sobs echoing in the dark room. Sweat perspiring off of her forehead.
"mama, izvini. ya boyus. mne nay pozvoleno boyatsya." (Mama, I'm sorry. I'm scared. I'm not allowed to be scared). The same voiced called out, this time loudly, into the room. Effectively waking the other woman almost immediately.
"Nat?" the brunette stirred, "Nat, Nat. Breathe, that's it. It's okay." Maria tried to placate her girlfriend? Her lover? Her fuck buddy? Who the fuck knows.
"ostavte, elena. ona im nay nuzhnaya. u nikh ikh thuck mnogo" (Leave Yelena. They don't need her. They have so many.) The red head continued to seize in the bed.
Maria wasn't sure what to do, they rarely continued to sleep together after sex. This was just one of those lucky nights, the kind of nights both women treasured. The nights were neither of them put up a defensive shield and chose to stop pretending it was only about sex. It was never about sex, not really. It was just an excuse to be closer, to feel safer. To dance on the precipice of love.
"Natasha, you're safe." Maria reassured her, her hands now placed over Natasha's wrists hoping the weight would slowly soothe her back into reality.
"mama! mama!" "net, prostyte. prosty menia"(Mama! Mama! No, forgive me. Forgive me" Natasha continued to shake and call out in her sleep. Her body wet and feverish.
Maria snapped on the bed side light, slowly pushing Natasha up in her sleep to sit in between Maria's legs. Resting Natasha's head on her chest.
"You did nothing wrong Nat. She isn't mad, it wasn't your fault" Maria whispered into her ears, grateful she had learned Russian when the red head first joined SHIELD two years ago.
