Cornelia Street - Avengers

Secret Glances

"You don't mess with love, you mess with the truth"

The Compound, 2017

(On My Mind, Ellie Goulding)

...

She ran from Steve's bedroom, down the darkened hallway, and into the main living quarters, the world around her slowly coming to life as the Avengers woke. Her expression must have been one of terror, as she caught the faces of several half-asleep people watching her with confusion. 

Natasha sipped a coffee in nothing but an oversized black shirt in the kitchen, one hand rubbing her eye as Clint slumped his face on the counter, eyes rimmed red from sleep.

Or lack thereof. She almost smirked as he lay with his mouth open, arms limp by his sides. She caught Bruce on the way running down the hallway, turning the sharp corner and almost knocking into his shoulders as she rushed past. 

It made no impact on him, but for her, she was almost sent flying. God, he was surprisingly strong. Well, no shit.

He raised his hands in shock, grabbing onto her arms to stop her from falling over him, glasses going crooked on his nose. "Where's the fire?" He mumbled, and she grimaced, avoiding his gentle cautionary gaze.

"Sorry, excuse me," she stammered, between her laboured breathing and the cracks in her voice. His dark brows knitted together in the centre as she turned from him, rushing further past the dimly lit greyscale and cold kitchen. But she caught Nat's frown as she swallowed a sip from her steaming beverage.

"You good?" She asked, and Lucia just offered her a small head nod, as she tried to convey a look of contentment. She didn't want to put her in the middle of things. Especially when she knew just how close friends both Nat and Steve were. 

But instead of her sister, she saw Black Widow come out, her face sharpening as she analysed the girl. She knew she was lying, and she knew it from the second she saw her. But she wouldn't out her in front of the team, she'd never.

"Your Dad wants us downstairs in fifteen. Are you sure you'll be okay to make it? I can make something up if you're not."

"No, no you don't have to do that. I'll be there."

She really didn't want to be, in fact, there were about a million places she would rather be than in that meeting room right now, but if she doesn't show up then she'll have to face more peppering questions and accusations from her father.

"Alright. You sure?"

"I'm sure Nat. I'll meet you down there," she muttered, turning around from her before that same bottled-up emotion had the chance to claw its way up her throat. Rushing into the shower, letting the frozen water pour over her and her flushed tear-streaked face, she tried to let the events of the past hour pour off, but to no avail. 

She tried to scrub him off her, clawing at her lips and neck like it would erase his memory. Like she could take back her actions, ones she knew she would regret forever. 

Drying off, she toyed with the array of golden red curls framing her skin, watching her bare face stare back at her. Lucia seemed different now from before she almost died. Different in a way she couldn't quite put her finger on.

But pinkish imprints still stained themselves down both cheeks, adding an unforgettable innocence to the harshness of her eyes now in this lighting. She bit back emotion, swallowing it down before throwing on black pants, sneakers and a hood.

By the time she reached the conference room, almost everyone was already there, as she had crossed the entirety of the compound grass grounds out to the exterior facilities in a matter of minutes. Fury, Tony, Beth, Bruce, Clint and Nat were sitting at the table in the centre of the room. Windows of glass gave the meeting room the feel of a fishbowl, not exactly the most private space.