Broken Hearts Club

Chapter 32

Natasha never felt more at home,that familiar scent of his lingering in the air and the warmth from the sunshine that continues to shine through the large panes of window, it felt all too familiar. As she sat with her laptop on her lap, choosing to do her work here rather than at her own place, her eyes drift to the sparkly ring on her hand.

She remembered that day clearly, like it was yesterday. That day when he asked her to be his girlfriend, he gifted her with a beautiful ring. It's not like she only wanted to because of the ring, but the thought that he had actually prepared something so special for that makes her heart flutter again, smiling to herself like a fool. 

Then, the memory of Paris returned. She did forgive him, but it's easier to forgive than to forget. Since then this insecurity grows within her, thoughts that are eating her up and sometimes she feels overwhelmed. What if she was just not enough?

What if one day, Steve told her that all his feeling were temporary, that maybe he did love her but not anymore? What if one day Steve meets a beautiful woman, with the brains and the manners and decides she's a better person than Natasha? What if one day Steve decided that all he wanted to do was paint? What if one day they realize that the differences between them can not be mended? What if one day Steve, once more, leaves? For whatever reason. What if?

"I swear, it's not like I'm some A-list Hollywood actor or something. Can't the paps gimme a break?" He groaned as he ditched his hat and his shades on to the coffee table, "Sorry I took long, those fangirls were on my tail. Had to shook 'em off. Them and the paps. Sheez."

"You might not be Leonardo DiCaprio, but with looks like that and a good heart like yours, believe me it's not only the art collectors that loves you," Natasha quipped as she set her laptop on to the coffee table. Taking a sip of the coffee he just bought he offered Natasha some, she refused. Natasha never refused coffee, so this earned a raised eyebrow from Steve. With a little more persuasion, she still refused it. This time she quietly shook her head.

"You okay?" He asked the unusual coffee refusing Natasha, who sat quietly on the couch.

"Yea, I'm fine," she said softly,"Can we go out today? Have a drink? Maybe dinner?" she suggested, and she cringed inside at the sound of her voice that sounded so clingy. 

"I'm not sure, I'm planning to continue a painting today," he replied, and he felt his heart clenched when he saw her expression turn incredibly sad,"I'm sorry. How about this weekend? I promise," he said with his ever charming smile. With a kiss on her cheek, he left to the studio, where he's been this past week, only going out to eat and sleep. 

Natasha ate dinner in front of her laptop, some leftover pasta Steve made the other day. Ending her work for the day, she blinked her eyes slowly as she glanced at the clock, it was well past midnight. Walking down to his bedroom wearing one of his shirts, which becomes some sort of a dress on her, her eyes caught the bright yellow light of the studio turned on.

"Steve?" she called, but she didn't get an answer from the man behind the canvas.

"Steve?" she called once more, but only got a quiet "hmmm?" in response.

"It's late, you should go to sleep," she said softly, trying hard to stay awake. Steve stayed silent. "Steve?" she called him once more and yet he still stayed silent.

"Steve!" She exclaimed loudly, and thankfully he finally looks up from his canvas, an expression of shock in his features, "Is it so hard to answer me?" an irritated Natasha asked, "You should sleep it's late," she repeated.

"You go ahead and sleep, I'm still working on this," he replied as his attention drifted back to the canvas and she lost it.

"Sleep. Steven Rogers," she said and before Steve could open his mouth to speak she cut him off,  "For god's sake, Steve, you're not superman. You need sleep. That painting's the only thing you care about for days, I'm starting to think it's more valuable than I am," she bitterly remarked as she stormed off to the bedroom.

Moments later, Steve followed to the bedroom, only to find it locked. Ha! He was locked out of his own bedroom, "Nat?" he called out with a knock, which earned no response.

"Nat? I'm sorry, okay? Please let me in," he said soft as he put his hands on his pocket and felt the soft material of a small velvet box, just to remind him that it was still there. With a sigh, he slept on the couch.

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Steve woke up to the smell of coffee and bacon, readjusting the fallen pillows on the couch, he stood up and went to the kitchen. There, he found Natasha with an apron, in front of the cooking pans and kitchen counters and somehow the sight felt domestic. He tried to sneak up behind her to hug her waist from behind, but she turned around just before he did just that. With an irritated face she somehow calmly said,"Next time, please do sleep. I know you can't get eyebags, but that's not my point. You need to sleep, you've been sleep deprived this whole week, only running on coffee. Okay?" she said, as she threaded her fingers between his golden hair and brought him close.

"Okay," he answered, "and I promise I'll make some time for you. We can go out tonight, let's go wherever you want, you name it," he said as he snaked his arms and pulled her close. Once she smiled and nodded he went on to apologize, "I'm sorry if I've been caught up with painting, I swear I'll make it up to you.

"That's okay," she said,"as long as you're not caught up with other women then it's fine," she joked, her smirk returning to her face. He took that as a cue to catch her lips in his, and boy was it a fine way to start the morning.

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Hello! I'm sorry, it's been ages since I've updated this, but I've been caught up with so many things and I hope this chapter makes up for it!

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