Revenge

The couch

 To say I haven't grown quite fond of Kate during the months after our fire escape chat would be a flat out lie. I don't exactly know how it happened, but after that night I just had to keep seeing her, and I grew quite attached to the archer.

Our nightly hang outs ended up turning into sleepovers, which turned into me staying the weekend, turning into us spending every second of our free time together. It's gotten to the point where we take turns doing the laundry, since there's as much of my clothes in the hamper as there is Kate's.

Even our dogs have been inseparable since we introduced the two, and Kate ended up buying Fanny a dog bowl which sits next to Lucky's, since my akita is over almost as much as I am.

I would've thought that I'd grow bored of New York after a while, since I've never stayed in the same place for as long as I have, but with Kate around that's not the case. She's showed me everything worth seeing in New York, like the parks, her favorite coffee shops, the best bars, and all the popular tourist spots. In turn I've taught her how to cook, since she seriously lacks in that skill department, and now we make dinner together almost every night.

We also talk a lot, more than I've ever talked to anyone. She's told me all about growing up rich, and the stupid stunts she and her friends would pull. I learned about her father's death, and how that affected her relationship with her mother. I also learned little things about her, like how she doesn't like the color orange, she wanted to be a singer as a kid, and she surprisingly knows how to play the guitar but she doesn't tell anyone because she says it's not "badass."

I've told her things too, but I haven't gone in depth about my past. I don't wish that knowledge upon anyone. I mostly share the things I'd like to do, see, and learn in the future instead, and the archer has already helped me cross some things off my bucket list here in New York.

A lot has changed in the past few months, but I think the most significant is the unfamiliar feeling I get when I'm with Kate. It's an unwavering giddy warm feeling, and It gets stronger and more prominent every time she smiles, every time she laughs, every time she cracks a joke, or puts her hair up.

It scares me. Not the overwhelming, peaceful glow, but the fact that my emotions have become so dependent on another person. A few months ago I would've scorned the thought of practically living with someone I haven't known my whole life, telling them intimate details about me, and spending hours side by side watching all their favorite movies. But I know that if I didn't have Kate Bishop in my life, I'd be miserable.

Even though we haven't known each other for long, the brunette has become the most important person in my life. I've become attuned to Kate, I feel her emotions, and I've become aware of her needs. We're like two intertwined strings, fine on our own, but stronger when we're together.

"Lena?" Kate calls from her spot on the couch.

"Yes?" I reply from the adjoining kitchen, across from the living room.

"Can you bring me a cup of water when you come back over?"

"Ya."

I finish scooping the french fries I just pulled out of the oven onto a plate, and fill up a glass of water for Kate. She's waiting on the couch for me when I sit down, and she unpauses our movie. This has become one of our favorite things to do. Kate chooses something I've never watched before, and we make a new snack or treat to eat.

Kate throws the blanket back over my lap, and I scoot closer so we can share the fries. Kate samples one, letting out a little hum of appreciation, and I try one too. They do taste quite good, even though Kate added a bit too much salt. I make a mental note to write down the recipe, and return my attention to the TV.

After a few minutes the fries have disappeared, and I lean to set the plate on the small black coffee table in front of the couch. Now that she's not holding food, Kate repositions herself in a comfier position, pressing her shoulder into mine. My stomach flutters at the contact, and I draw the blanket tighter around me.

"I would just like to tell you" Kate stifles a yawn as she speaks, pointing to the TV "This is not what high school is like at all."

I try to hide my smile at her sleepy voice. "What was high school like?"

"Not like any of the movies we've watched. There was tons of homework, annoying teachers, petty arguments, toxic people. High school was definitely created to make teenagers hate everything." Her words started to slow down at the end.

"Sounds awful."

"Mmhmm." She mumbled.

She's putting almost all her weight on my arm now, and I glance over to see her eyes closed, head leaning on the back of the couch. She's literally falling asleep in the middle of our conversation. After a few minutes, her breathing slows in a deeper rhythm, and I can tell that she's out.

I look at my friend in the dark, and the feeling washes over me like a wave, stronger than I've ever felt it. This person sitting next to me, this wonderful, funny, amazing person is my reason. She's my reason for eating, for sleeping, for living. I'd give her the world if she asked me to. If only she knew how completely wrapped around her finger I am.

The position she's sleeping in doesn't look comfortable, and in the morning her neck is going to hurt from the way it's bent if I don't do something, so I gently grab her shoulders and lay both of us back so we're laying horizontal on the couch, her head on my chest. She starts to stir, so I lightly trace patterns on her bare arms, and she settles back down with a deep exhale.

I study her features up close and smile, a warm feeling spreading throughout my chest. I love everything about her face. Her closed eyes which are normally full of playful mischief, her perfectly sculpted cheekbones, her full lips. Out of all of these features that should be found on a super model, her eyelashes are what catch my attention.

I carefully lift my finger and brush her lower lashes, feeling the tickling sensation against the pad of my fingertip. Her hand shoots up to rub her eye, then she cuddles deeper into my chest.

I can't help but wonder what it would be like to do this every night, just us cuddling, and kissing, and- Yelena, stop. The practical side of my brain brings my imagination to a screeching halt. She's your best friend, you can't think about her like that. It's unprofessional.

Yet then again, her laying asleep on my chest isn't very professional either. Would it really be that bad to want more? Is it so impractical to fall in love, and become more than a lone wolf, starved for emotional support?

But I don't even know if she would like me back. After all, she is amazing, and I am just me. I pause the thought of something more, choosing to focus on what I do have here and now, and not the hypothetical future.

I find the remote for the TV, turning off our forgotten movie, and pull the blanket closer to our bodies, enveloping us in a warm cocoon. I may not know what the future holds, but this, this is what I want forever.