I had always told myself that love was for children. Love made you weak, depending on someone else. That was why it was to be avoided, at all costs. But maybe, just sometimes, it isn't so bad.
The Red Room had drilled into me to never show my emotions, to keep my face a blank mask of indifference. They drilled so deep that I sometimes wondered if I had any at all.
Then I met Clint Barton.
The first time he kissed me, I felt my walls come down and a rush of warmth run through my body. I felt fireworks explode and it all came rushing back. All the emotions, all the feelings I felt as a child before the Red Room, before HYDRA, before The Black Widow program.
Before I became an emotionless, cold-blooded killer.
He changed me. He returned my ability to feel again, to be human again.
So now I wonder,
Am I a child?
