Fighting Next To You ~ A Clintasha FanFiction

Part One

A/N: So guys, a new book! I've been writing this for a couple of months and have finally uploaded it! This book takes place after Budapest (I did a Budapest FanFiction so you might want to read that first, but it's not compulsory). Also, Natasha is blonde for the first half of the book. I really hope you enjoy this book as much as I've enjoyed writing it! Please remember to recommend, comment and vote!

~Sam

*Natasha's POV*

​  I turn on the shower and step in. The warm water washes away the blood and sweat, making me whole again. The shower is now stained dark red and reeks of death. I lather in some shampoo and rinse it out quickly, thankful for the coconut scent. I shut off the shower and step out onto the black bath mat. My wet blonde hair sends water down my back, making me reach for the black towel. My mascara has run down my cheeks like ink and my skin is red and blotchy due to the shower's heat. I wrap a smaller towel around my hair and pull on my baby pink pyjamas. Slipping my feet into my white fluffy slippers, I unlock the bathroom door and switch off the light. Lately, Fury has been sending me on solo missions. I don't mind, but when I'm alone I have to work twice as hard, and I'm automatically put in more danger because no one has my back. If I'm doing a paired mission I'm always out with Agent Tay. He's okay I guess.
​  I put some dried pasta onto boil and stir in some cheap sauce from the store round the corner. I haven't eaten in days, and I'm pretty sure that my stomach has actually shrunk. The view from the window is dull. Rain dribbles down the window, making intricate patterns and lines. The sky is bleak and patchy clouds smother the moon. Hastily, I draw the curtains, looking at rain and darkness depresses me. I haven't been home much, and therefore I haven't done any of the washing up. Plates, mugs and cutlery are piled up in the sink. I'll do it tomorrow. I rummage around the cupboards for a clean bowl and cup and transfer the pasta into the bowl.
​  The television is extremely low quality, and the picture is always fuzzy, but hey, at least I have a TV. I turn on some crappy reality TV show and eat my pasta gloomily. I have a day off tomorrow. I hate days off. On my days off I go shopping and stock up on everything. Due to me being away on missions often, I have to buy food that'll stay fit until I come back. My diet mainly consists of pasta, rice and noodles because of this. I also need to do all the washing up and change the sheets on the bed. I'd much rather be at gunpoint to be honest. The pasta is still slightly crunchy, but I'm ravenous so I continue to eat.
​  My bedroom isn't very exciting. It's like the rest of my apartment; cream coloured and dim. I own a very small single bed because the double beds were all way too expensive, and I bought a brown wardrobe that I painted white. I peel back the bed covers and clamber into bed, exhausted once again. Oh well, I can have a lie in tomorrow. I set my phone down on my bedside table and switch off the lamp. As I lie in bed, I listen to the cars going past and the rain tapping on the window. It's those sounds that make home, home. I shut my eyes and prepare for sleep when my phone inconveniently rings. I groan and fumble for it.

"What." I say shortly into the phone.

"Agent Romanoff, you need to come in. Now."