the girls of moscow || n. romanova

assessment

27 July, 1945 - Present Day

Natalya's head was thrown back, mouth open in a silent cry as she came, hard, on the Soldier's cock.

"Fuck," he breathed against her neck. His arms were around her, holding her up. She felt her strength give out, and she collapsed against him.

"That was good," she managed finally, feeling dazed. He chuckled, and she looked up at him. His eyes were so blue. Natalya reached up and touched his cheek, stroking her thumb over dark stubble. "I love this," she whispered. "I love doing this with you." He didn't reply, but he didn't look away. "I think... I think I love you," she said quietly.

"You don't love me," he replied with a laugh, looking away.

She flinched.

"How do you know what I feel?"

He met her eyes, and she felt scrutinized.

"Because you're a teenager. You don't know what you want."

Natalya blinked in confusion, hurt. What was that supposed to mean? She felt angry tears welling in her eyes.

"That's not fair," she whispered.

"It's just sex," he said, emotionless. "It's good, yes, but it's not deeper than that."

"But I do love you," she replied, voice shaky. "I want you. I want to be with you. We can do this all the time, we can - "

"We can what?" The Soldier interrupted exasperatedly. Natalya felt small. "You don't know what you want," he repeated. "Just last week you were yelling at me, telling me I wasn't supposed to feel anything, and reminding me that you weren't, either. You told me you were a killer. Killers aren't supposed to feel anything, you said." Natalya bit her lip as he continued. "'Killers don't feel. They do the opposite. Seduce people, get what they need, and then kill,'" he quoted. "You decided you don't care, if memory serves."

"But - "

"You don't have any idea what you want," he said again, softer this time. "I do care for you, which is why I don't want you to hurt yourself by making this out to be more than it is."

She turned away, still worrying her lip between her teeth, and squeezed her eyes shut. Hot, traitorous tears still managed to spill out onto her cheeks.

"Fuck you," she said, voice choked with emotion.

The Soldier pulled her into his chest, stroked her hair.

"Your examinations are tomorrow," he said, as she sniffled. Natalya huffed out a breath.

"I know." She wiped her nose. "I'm not worried about them."

"You have no reason to be. You're the best damn student in the Academy."

She looked up at him, eyes shiny.

"Yeah?" she sniffled again, and gave him a watery smile. He remained expressionless.

"What about your Graduation?"

Natalya blinked.

"I..." She wasn't sure how to reply to that. "It's not something I've let myself think about much," she admitted. "But when I do think about it it scares me. There's so much I don't know."

He frowned at her, then.

"You don't know?" he repeated.

"No one's ever told me what it is," she said softly, embarrassed. "It's such an official term, but they keep everything about it classified. But... I heard that one girl died due to complications with her Graduation. Death doesn't really scare me, but... I guess the unknown does." She ignored the irony in that sentence.