Steve Rogers thought he was one of the lucky ones but Natasha Romanoff, well, she thought that she was terribly misfortunate and she would love to kick fate's ass. In a world where soulmates are real, unequivocal marks etched on skin signifying an i...
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People ran for their lives in the snowy village, yelling in Russian as they leaped over dead, bloody bodies that lay in the streets. Bullets whizzed past Natasha's ears, the snipers shooting from every angle as she and Steve ducked behind a car that had been flipped over in the raging war. "What do we do?" He shouted, his azure eyes wide with adrenaline as he looked at her.
"Wait until they stop to reload and then we make a break for that building, got it?" She told him, reloading her own gun. Her hands trembled, and it wasn't from the cold as her heart pounded in her chest. They were exceedingly outnumbered and outgunned. She didn't know how they had gotten there, the Red Room's Black Widows hunting them like dogs, and she didn't know why she was the one giving orders. It was as if she'd forgotten the past, her mind only convened on the future as she and Steve fought a losing war. At that moment, however, the past didn't matter. All that mattered was getting out alive. His life was in her hands. She had to protect him. He always had her six, and she would always have his.
"Okay, Nat. I trust you." He said, adjusting his shield in front of them as bullets clanged off the vibranium.
She pressed closer to him, her face in the nape of his neck as they held one another, and the heat from his body radiated into hers. She knew the snipers would have to reload soon, and she should brace herself to run but even amongst the battle, she didn't want to let him go. She wanted to lose herself in every part of him, to omit everything around them and show him just how much he meant to her. She was done fighting - done running from the Red Room - and she wanted to live the life she had envisioned with her soulmate, a life full of love and happiness; a life they had fought so hard for. After the fight was over and the dust had settled, she wanted to run away with him, to break away from S.H.I.E.L.D. and being Avengers, to put away her Widow Bites as he hung up his shield for good. "If we get out of this alive, I swear I'm going to marry you," she said adamantly.
She truly meant it.
"I'll hold you to it." He chuckled, his arms tightening around the arch of her lower back.
She listened carefully, waiting and waiting until the onslaught of bullets began to cease. Her muscles tensed as she prepared to run, and she shifted against Steve as he drew his arms away from her and positioned his shield in front of them. "Ready?" She asked, glancing up at his handsome face. Dirt was smudged across the curve of his jaw, and blood was splattered on his blue, stealth ensemble, but he still took her breath away. He was still everything that Captain America stood for - that and more - and he would always be the man she loved.
"Let's go, baby." He smiled at her.
Together, they ran.
He shielded them as she shot at those who shot back with just as much accuracy. She had trained some of them, women who she had once cared about like they were her own sister. However as she unloaded her gun, she showed them no mercy. Her bullets hit their mark, and the women were brought down with cries of pain as they were wounded and killed.
