Under You [N. Romanoff × Female Reader]

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗧𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆-𝗧𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲

Your breath hitched when you heard her voice, delaying you for another ten seconds before you pushed open the door and reveal the woman behind it, who was at that time was writing, probably signing on some documents for today.

"Is something burning?" Natasha said, still looking down.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you were about to take that as an offense, but then she continued. "Didn't I tell you to come here only if something's on fire." She added, thinking you were the same intern that pissed her off ten minutes ago.

You stood quietly, waiting for her to be the one to look at you, since you didn't have anything to say to break the ice, or maybe you do, you just didn't want to. So you watched her, studying her movements even if you didn't need to because honestly all this time even with your eyes closed you know her like the back of your hand. How her face scrunch up when she doesn't like something; when her brows knit together when she's confused; how she clicks the pen constantly when she ponders over something; or how she plays with her heels under the table when she has a song in mind.

"Have you forgotten your mouth-" she cut herself short when her eyes landed to you, her words drying up in the back of her throat.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Romanoff, I apoligize for the disturbance as I believe that I don't have an appointment with you today, but this one is ASAP." You start, sounding professionally ready even if not emotionally. "My manager wants you to approve this." You walk to her table, placing dow the magazine as you kept your face stoic.

Clearing her throat, she looked down at the magazine now on her table, and her breath paused to the sight. She knew she was getting married, she even announced it, she was just surprised that you were the one responsible for the upcoming headline.

She picked up the paper and took her time to read it, while you stood there in silence, peripherals checking around her office as if you were secretly familiarizing the place. While doing that, you caught a small picture hidden between two frames, the said picture contained of yours truly next to a sleeping Natasha. You think back to the time it happend, It was your brother Jere who had taken the picture when you and Natasha fell asleep on his bed since you couldn't carry Natasha all the way to your room, you can't even remember why you guys were on Jere's bed. But by looking at it, you badly wanted to hug her now, to feel her skin on your fingertips again.

"It's... uhm, fine," her sound pulled you back from your trance as you looked at her.

"Fine? Are you sure, Ms. Romanoff?" You were making sure that she read it right so you won't make any mistakes, or maybe deep down you were wishing that she'd tell you this was all wrong, that she wasn't getting married, that it was just a stunt.

"Yep," she replied, handing you back the magazine and you took it, nodding shortly after as you take your leave.

"That would be all, Ms. Romanoff, thank you for your time," you smiled, turning around to leave, and as your back was on her, Natasha muttered, "I would always make time for you." But you chose to ignore it ad walked farther back towards the door.

"Y/N," the sudden tone from her made you froze, as your hand touched the door knob.

"Yes, Miss?" You asked, without turning to look at her.

"Would you maybe want to go get some coffee this evening? I promise there won't be anything else, just a coffee," she hoped you would say yes, while she fiddles with the pen on her hand.

Closing your eyes, you thought of the consequences of this action, if you go with her for a coffee maybe you'd get closure, but what if something else happens? But if you don't go, it'd bother you thinking of what would have happened if you went for a coffee, for the last time.

"One coffee," you glared back at her, and you saw how she held back a smile.

"I'll send you the details," she says and you smiled apologetically.

"You can't, I blocked you remember?" You reply and she furrows her brows with a smile.

"Don't worry, I have a new number," she quipped, proud of herself for being ready in scenarios like this, which leaves you wondering of how many times she had practiced this in front of her mirror.

"Okay."

A few moments later.

"I have plans this evening," you say nonchalant to your manager, as you hand her the finished copy of the magazine.

"And...?" She trailed off, looking up at you.

"Nothing, just letting you know," you replied, "so you won't have to come yelling at my house if I don't answer the phone."

"Do I know who you're going out with?" She had a teasing voice.

"With my ex, are you happy now?" You didn't mean to spat the words, you just did.

"Hey, what's with the attitude?" She warned, not liking it.

Rolling your eyes, "because I know something bad will happen, the moment I sit across her at a coffee table."

"You're being delusional, one of the signs you haven't moved on from her."

"Shut up already, I'm leaving. Boss." You still have a little respect with her, of course you do, she's your manager, but if she's just no one then you would've smacked her head already. Just kidding. No really, a coffee would be a catastrophe.

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