From Autumn to Winter: A Winterwidow College AU

Bliss

TW: This chapter contains mentions of abuse and rape. Please do not read this if it will trigger you.

James

Over the next 45 minutes I learned a lot about Natasha. I learned that she liked listening to the bustle of big cities. She likes the smell of rain. She carries a lighter, but doesn't smoke. She sketches a lot and is very good at realism. She can't play any instruments, but tried to learn piano for a short period of time. She gets approximately three hours of sleep a night. She loves classic rock. She loves the smell of metal. Her favorite color is faded blue followed closely by metallic black.

It was all wonderful, but it wasn't right. There was something she wasn't telling me. Something dark there. The thing that made her carry a lighter. What made her not sleep? I was trying to figure out how to ask. I must have a horrible poker face because she suddenly asked me, "What's on your mind, Barnes? You haven't said a word in over five minutes. I don't know you that well, but I'm guessing that's a while for you." A smile tugged at my lips, but I didn't let it come.

"What aren't you telling me?" Her brows knit together and her face fell. She sighed. I felt bad for calling her out. "You don't have to tell me what it is. I understand more than most that out past can be hard to talk about." I said. She raised an eyebrow and her voice came out taut. "I...I want to tell you. Can we talk in private?"

"Oh...sure." I gulped. We got up and bid Val goodbye. "Is...your apartment okay? My roommates are probably home."

"Yeah that's fine." I said. We walked the three blocks to my apartment in silence. When we reached my stairs I turned to her and said, "If this is private, you don't need to tell me." She shook her head and looked at me blankly. "I'm aware of what I can and can't do." She then walked up the stairs leaving me at the bottom. When we reached my apartment I took off my coat, and we went into my room and sat on my bed because I didn't have a couch yet. We sat down, and she took a deep breath. "My...freshman year of college my parents set me up with a guy a couple years older than me. His name was Alexei Shostakov. He was the son of a family friend and he was a test pilot for the Russian Armed Forces. When I first met Alexei, he was a wonderful man. He was strong and firm, but that was what I wanted.

Over the course of the year, we got to know each other quite well. Then, in the spring, we said we'd get married. It wasn't so much a proposal as it was a promise. Then, Alexei got called back to duty for several weeks. I don't know what happened, but when he came back, he was not the same. He started being rude to me. Making snarky comments and insults. Pressuring me to do things I didn't want to do. Then, one day, he took it too far. He hurt me. Badly."

I watched her eyes get glassy. She gulped and kept talking. "I still have a scar from the champagne glass he threw at me on the day I said no. He was trying to pressure me into having sex with him. That was when I realized it wasn't worth it any more. I was only twenty. I said no. Told him if this was the man he was, than I didn't want to marry him anymore. He started throwing things at me. A plate hit me in the head, and I was knocked out. When I woke up, he was gone...and I was bleeding...and naked." A solemn tear rolled down her cheek.

This is the strongest woman I've met in my entire life, and I'm in the army. I mean for Christ's sake. Natasha has been through everything she didn't deserve and never let on to it. I put my hand on the bed next to her. Not facing up, but down so that she could decide what to do and where my hand went. She looked down at my hand and stared for a moment. Then she grabbed it and squeezed it. "I don't sleep long because I have nightmares about it every time I close my eyes. I'm pretty much used to it, but it still hurts. It also wrecked my relationship with my parents. I always carry a lighter because I smoked for a while after it all happened. I gave it up, but I can't stop flicking the lighter. I guess I prefer that that's the habit that I can't give up." She looked down at the ground as if she was ashamed of herself.

"Hey," I said, my voice gentle but clear. She looked up at me with an eyebrow raised. "None of that was your fault. Okay?" She opened her mouth as if to object, but then closed it. Another tear rolled down her cheek. "Can I hug you?" She smiled, though still teary, and moved across the bed to put her back to me and her head on my shoulder. She smelled like vanilla and smoke. Her hair was soft against my skin.

She looked up at me. I wanted to kiss her so, so badly. I don't really know if this is the most appropriate time to do that though. She just told me her emotional and horrifying trauma and I don't want her to think I'm just trying to make her vulnerable so I could take advantage of her.

Her pale blue eyes stared up at me. I think she may be going through the same thought process I am. "So," she said, the blinds putting lines over her face. "I've told you my backstory. What's yours?"

I pondered this for a moment. What was it? "Well, it's not that exciting. I grew up in Brooklyn with Steve. My mom was a secretary and my dad had some kind of low-paying office job. That is until he found beer. My dad died when I was fifteen. My mom died just last year from a really serious case of pneumonia. Right out of high school I went to army boot camp for a couple months. I was then shipped to Iraq for a few months. I was then sent home and well...here I am."

Natasha's face looked a lot more heartbroken than I feel like my past warranted, but maybe I'm just used to it. "Nobody special to come home to?" she asked. Just you. "No." I whispered.

Her soft eyes scanned my face. She then took her hand and brushed a piece of my hair off my forehead, but let her hand linger on my head with her fingers interlaced into my hair. We stared into each others eyes for at least a minute. Just sitting and soaking up the silence. Each one of us waiting for the other to make a move. Finally, Natasha said, "Well, I guess you're not Mr. Perfect. You're terrible at reading signals." I think I may have blacked out for half a second. "I...Wh--"

Natasha laughed at my embarrassment. Wow...just...I am so bad at this. "You know," she pondered. "This is the part where you could make up for--" I cut her off with the kiss. Not just a kiss. The kiss. The kiss I felt like I'd been waiting my whole life for. The kiss that was perfect and wonderful in every way. My hands caressing her face as hers ran through my hair. She turned toward me, but never stopped kissing. When we finally had to breathe, she whispered, "Okay. I take it back. You're Mr. Perfect." I laughed and grabbed her belt loops and pulled her towards me again. I never want this pure bliss to end.