Broken Hearts Club

Chapter 11

The day went on without a hitch. After their breakfast for two, Natasha left the room to take a shower. He took the phone number of Jessica Jones, she just gave him earlier and dialed the number.

"Alias Investigations," the voice from the phone said.

"Steve Rogers. I heard you can find certain people, yes?" He answered.

"I need you to find me Matt Murdock. Last known address to be the HK Building Unit 1012, several years ago. He can't be found anywhere, he's not dead I'm sure, so he has to be somewhere. Can you find him?" He asked the investigator.

"About a week? Sure, notice me when you find him. I'll send you the billing address." He finally said as he hung up the phone. Gosh, he hoped he had done the right thing. This is the right thing to do, isn't it?"

Steve sighed and sat on a lounge chair by the wide span windows which faced the city, his beloved sketchbook in hand. He was so determined to get his work done. It had been so long since he had done any worthy piece of art. Lucky him, he found someone who gave him the inspiration and motivation to get on with art, he found someone who became his muse.

Soon, Natasha returned from her shower. Bringing her notebook with her along with her phone to wear Steve was sitting.

"Steve," she called him, who seemed unaware she was sitting right beside her as he fixed his eyes and concentration on his sketchbook.

"hmm? Huh?" he asked as he quickly noticed the redhead and closed the book shut. He wanted his work to be a surprise for her, he wants her to see her smile as she sees the final result of his work, hoping that his art can make her realize how beautiful of a woman she is.

"What are you drawing you had to close it every time I get near? Come on, let me see," she gave and faked a pout at him.

"I want it to be a surprise for you," he said truthfully.

"That's so sweet of you," she said and beamed brightly at him as she nudged him with her elbows. Moments later, they stepped right into business, she reminded him she had to get her work on him done soon and so she delivered finishing questions, something regarding arts, inspiration and motivation. Surely, he answered it all with such wonderful passion that she was very moved by his answers. See, this is the part of being a journalist she really loves. Hearing stories of great passion and adventure from various different people of various different backgrounds.

She took a mini bag filled with pens of different hues and colors, an A3 sized drawing book and gathered all her notes from previous interviews she had with him. Those colored pens gave life and contrast to the mind map of ideas she made on the drawing book. Drafts of the content and how her final work would look like was made. All that she did as she sat on the floor, by Steve's feet as he, again, concentrated on his drawing. They both sat quietly to the soft tunes of soothing jazz music Natasha had turned on from her phone. After a time which seemed like countless hours, her eyelids got heavy and she started to doze off, her head made her feel like the earth beneath her was spinning and shaking hard. Her hand tried to support her head which was feeling very heavy at the moment.

"Nat? You okay?" Steve asked her as he noticed her very unusual behavior.

"Y-Yeah," she said her voice weak, "a little headache, I guess." Steve got up from his seat and bent down to her, he put his back hand on her forehead but it wasn't warm, so it isn't a fever. A migraine probably, or simply a headache from drafting and mind mapping stuff for so long now, her brain was screaming for a break.

"You should go get some rest. Take a nap, probably your brains overworked," Steve said as he sighed and tried to lift Natasha off the ground.

"I'm not a nap person," she whined.