The sudden influx of feelings washed over her as if none of this was real. What to believe. Her whole life had been constructed from careful lies leading her to believe everything. The she'd been in love with a man and married him, that he'd died and she fucking grieved. Then to find him alive and trying to kill her, only to take him down and destroy him. Others came and went, building the tower that Clint had practically blew up. Natalia was still there in the back of her mind ready to strike out claws and scream for the blood lust she'd been lacking thanks to Natasha carefully locking her away, pushing her out.
She felt herself be pulled up, wrapping her other leg around him to keep the balance, but it was like she was locked in limbo, a fantasy fit for the storybooks she'd filled her head with when she'd became a better person.
Gaze followed the shirt, shifting back to meet his eyes before slipping down to take in the same old sight she'd saw a million times before in a whole new light. Every scar, every mark, every hidden muscle which she saw shifting under his skin. Natasha started slow, trailing a finger along one ragged scar, finding another and another. A familiar one under her fingers, one Natalia had caused so many years ago back when she'd clawed her way into Natasha's body and mind and taken her under.
At the time she'd apologized so much through ragged breath and mouthfuls of vomit. Now she almost cast a crooked smile but instead lent it, tongue tracing the slow path her finger had taken. She paused at the question, meeting his eyes, "You know I do Barton, always appreciated the view, even when I made some of these myself" She tapped against the scars, intrigued by them as if she hadn't witnessed a scar this close but hell they both knew that wasn't true considering her own body was riddled with them. "How many? Don't think I've ever asked."
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She felt herself be pulled up, wrapping her other leg around him to keep the balance, but it was like she was locked in limbo, a fantasy fit for the storybooks she'd filled her head with when she'd became a better person.
Gaze followed the shirt, shifting back to meet his eyes before slipping down to take in the same old sight she'd saw a million times before in a whole new light. Every scar, every mark, every hidden muscle which she saw shifting under his skin. Natasha started slow, trailing a finger along one ragged scar, finding another and another. A familiar one under her fingers, one Natalia had caused so many years ago back when she'd clawed her way into Natasha's body and mind and taken her under.
At the time she'd apologized so much through ragged breath and mouthfuls of vomit. Now she almost cast a crooked smile but instead lent it, tongue tracing the slow path her finger had taken. She paused at the question, meeting his eyes, "You know I do Barton, always appreciated the view, even when I made some of these myself" She tapped against the scars, intrigued by them as if she hadn't witnessed a scar this close but hell they both knew that wasn't true considering her own body was riddled with them. "How many? Don't think I've ever asked."