Into The Red

.Underneath the surface.

Chapter 4.

The next few days in the Red Room felt like a whirlwind. Each training session with Bucky was an unpredictable storm, filled with explosive energy and charged silence. Natasha couldn't shake the feeling that the stakes were rising with each encounter. Their rivalry, once purely physical, now carried an undercurrent that made her heart race and her skin tingle whenever they sparred.

Today, the training room was buzzing with energy. A new batch of recruits had arrived, and the atmosphere was electric with their eagerness. Natasha observed them from a distance, arms crossed, her mind still buzzing from her last bout with Bucky. The recruits looked young, fresh-faced, and full of ambition—everything she used to be before the weight of her past caught up with her.

"Hey, Romanoff," Bucky's voice cut through her thoughts, and she turned to see him approaching, a faint smile on his lips. "What's with the brooding? You think these kids are gonna outshine you?"

"Not a chance," she replied, rolling her eyes. "They have no idea what they're getting into."

He nodded, leaning against the wall beside her. "You did, once. Look how far you've come."

"Yeah, well, I've also seen things that would make your skin crawl," she shot back, keeping her tone sharp. "They're just kids. They don't know what it's like to be molded into a weapon."

Bucky's gaze shifted to the recruits, his expression thoughtful. "Maybe they'll surprise us."

She snorted, folding her arms tighter. "Maybe you'll surprise me today in training. I doubt it, though."

"Is that a challenge?" he asked, turning to face her, his blue eyes glimmering with that familiar spark of competition.

"Always," she replied, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"Good," he said, stepping back, his posture shifting from casual to combat-ready. "Let's see what you've got, Black Widow."

They moved to the center of the training room, the other recruits watching with keen interest. The air crackled with anticipation, and Natasha felt a familiar rush of adrenaline. They both took their stances, each of them sizing up the other.

"Remember, don't hold back," Bucky warned, his voice low and serious. "You need to show them what it really means to fight."

Natasha grinned, feeling the heat of the moment wash over her. "Oh, I plan to."

With that, they charged at each other, fists flying and feet moving with a swift, deadly grace. Bucky came at her with a ferocity that matched her own, their movements a blur as they clashed again and again. Each punch, each kick, was a reminder of the tension that hung in the air, the palpable heat that sparked between them every time they engaged.

"Come on, Bucky! Is that all you've got?" she taunted, dodging his blows and countering with precision.

"Just warming up," he shot back, landing a solid strike against her ribs that made her gasp. "You need to stay sharp, Romanoff."

"You think I'm not sharp?" She retaliated with a flurry of punches, the adrenaline coursing through her body. She could feel the energy in the room shift, the recruits watching with wide eyes as their mentors fought.

Bucky's presence was intoxicating, and the thrill of their clash kept her on edge. He moved like a predator, fluid and dangerous, and every time their bodies connected, it felt like a dance of chaos and control. The tension swirled around them, thick and unyielding, igniting something deep within her.

"You're getting better," he said, dodging a high kick and spinning around to grab her arm. He pulled her close again, their faces mere inches apart. "But you still have a long way to go."