The Pasts

Chapter 17

The early morning light filters softly through the curtains, casting a gentle, golden glow over the room. The air is still, peaceful, the kind of quiet that seems to exist only in these stolen moments before the rest of the world stirs awake. The comforter is draped loosely over your bodies, the only thing keeping the cool air from reaching your bare skin.

Natasha lies beside you, her body nestled close, her warm breath grazing your cheek. Her hand rests on your waist, fingers tracing light, lazy circles on your skin as if memorizing every inch of you. The intensity of last night's emotions has faded into something softer, more tender. Her green eyes are locked on yours, filled with so much love it almost takes your breath away.

She doesn't speak not at first. Instead, she just watches you, her gaze drinking you in as if she's afraid to blink, afraid she'll miss something. Her thumb brushes across your bare hip, a delicate, almost reverent touch, and a small, contented smile tugs at the corners of her lips.

"Morning," Natasha finally whispers, her voice hushed, as if the stillness of the moment is too sacred to break. Her fingers trail slowly up your side, leaving a warm path in their wake as they come to rest just below your collarbone.

You turn slightly, facing her fully, the comforter shifting as your bare legs tangle together beneath it. Natasha's eyes never leave yours, filled with an emotion so deep, it roots you to the spot. There's no urgency in her touch, no rush just the quiet intimacy of two people who have been through hell and back, who have fought for each other and with each other, and now, in this moment, there's nothing but love.

She leans in, her lips brushing against your forehead before trailing down to your cheek, then to your lips. The kiss is soft, almost featherlight, filled with an unspoken tenderness that speaks louder than words. When she pulls back, her hand comes up to cradle your face, her thumb stroking your cheek as she stares at you, her eyes soft and vulnerable.

"I love you," she murmurs, her voice barely audible, as if the words are a secret meant only for you. Her forehead rests against yours, her lips still lingering near, her breath warm and steady. "So much."

"I love you too," you whisper back, your voice equally soft, a quiet echo of her own. The words hang between you, intimate and sacred, as if this moment belongs to just the two of you and nothing else in the world exists.

The early summer morning light spills gently across the bed, casting a warm, golden hue over the room. It touches Natasha's bare skin, highlighting the delicate curve of her shoulder and the soft rise and fall of her chest. Her red hair, still tousled from sleep, spreads across the pillow like a fiery halo, catching the light in the most breathtaking way.

The comforter is draped loosely over both of you, its weight just enough to keep the cool air at bay. The fabric clings to your bodies, barely covering the places where your skin meets hers, where the heat between you lingers. You can feel the softness of it against your back, but all your focus is on the woman in front of you, her warm body pressed so intimately against yours.

Natasha's lips brush against your forehead again, a kiss so gentle it's like a whisper of affection, lingering there before trailing down to the corner of your mouth. Her green eyes, deep and soft in the dim light, lock onto yours, and for a moment, time seems to slow. There's a vulnerability there, something raw and unspoken, and you realize just how much she's laid bare before you.

Her fingers slide beneath the comforter, gently caressing the skin of your side, and you can feel her steady breath on your face, warm and soothing. She pulls you closer, her lips hovering just inches from yours, but she doesn't move to kiss you yet. Instead, she simply looks at you, her gaze filled with so much love that it takes your breath away.