[ Natasha's laugh is a slow-curling thing, but it's hers alone. It's not so hard to track like smoke or wisps of air or anything so romantic — it's just plain like the rest of her, maybe a little dry with the way her sense of humor pitches. ]
Hill guessed, [ she offers, but it's not really much of anything. Natasha angles her chin to kiss the nearest bit of skin she can reach; his cheek, it turns out, her breath warm as she huffs out her laugh. ] But predictability has never been our strong suit.
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Hill guessed, [ she offers, but it's not really much of anything. Natasha angles her chin to kiss the nearest bit of skin she can reach; his cheek, it turns out, her breath warm as she huffs out her laugh. ] But predictability has never been our strong suit.