The Pasts

Chapter 10

A/N: Please forgive me for the delay. I lost my grandmother, who was like a mother to me. I didn't really go through and revise this chapter, so I apologize if it's not well done. I will still be writing, just with slower updates while I grieve.

Thank you for your patience and support. 💕

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You wake up slowly, your body protesting as you shift under the covers. The first thing you notice is the warm light filtering through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. The unfamiliar surroundings momentarily confuse you, and then you remember: Natasha brought you into her room last night.

You groan, stretching slightly despite the ache in your side. The bed is way too comfortable for your liking. That's when you hear a soft snore beside you. Turning your head to the left, your eyes widen. Natasha is lying next to you, her red hair spread out on the pillow, her face relaxed in peaceful slumber.

Your heart skips a beat, then starts pounding in your chest. The love of your life is sleeping beside you—the one who broke your heart. For a moment, you just lie there, staring at her, trying to process the scene in front of you. The absurdity of the situation strikes you, and you can't help but chuckle softly. Here you are, recovering from an injury, and the biggest realization of the morning is finding yourself still in Natasha Romanoff's bed.

"Oh boy," you think to yourself, "is this a nightmare?" You pinch yourself, wincing as the pain confirms you're very much awake. You can't help but smile at the sight of her, the familiar mix of love and pain making your chest tighten.

Natasha stirs, her eyes fluttering open. For a split second, she looks confused, her gaze darting around the room before settling on you. Her eyes widen, mirroring your earlier shock. There's a brief, awkward silence as you both process the situation.

"Uh, morning," you mumble, trying to keep your voice steady.

Natasha blinks, then a slow, sleepy smile spreads across her face. "Morning," she mumbles into the pillow, her voice muffled and husky. She stretches, her movements cat like and graceful, then winces as she remembers your injury. "How are you feeling?"

You laugh softly, unable to resist a bit of teasing...needing to tease. "Better, now that I've woken up to find a super spy in bed with me. Is this standard procedure, Agent Romanoff?"

Natasha smirks, her face still half buried in the pillow. "Only for... special patients," she mumbles, her eyes twinkling with amusement despite her sleepy state.

Your heart aches at her words, the sincerity in her voice tugging at your emotions. "I'm sorry," you say softly. "I didn't mean to worry you last night."

Natasha's hand, still heavy with sleep, reaches out and rests lightly on your arm. "Just promise me you'll be more careful," she murmurs, her eyes meeting yours. The intensity of her gaze, even through sleepy eyes, sends a shiver down your spine, the unspoken emotions between you hanging heavy in the air.

"I promise," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Natasha yawns and stretches again, this time more fully, and then turns to you with a small, teasing smile. "So, are you going to make me watch one of your nerdy movies, or what? Because you aren't leaving this bed until I say so."

Your eyes widen at her words, your heart thumping loudly in your chest. "Oh, uh, you know, I still have that sci fi classic," you stammer, trying to keep your tone light. "We could start with one of those."

Natasha raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "Yeah, because nothing says recovery like a marathon of space operas," she replies, her voice tinged with sarcasm. Yet, there's a softness in her eyes that makes your chest ache.