𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓 ✘ 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐅𝐅

{3¹⁴} {A PERFECT WORLD}

∆ {3¹⁴} {A PERFECT WORLD} ∆

THEIR COFFEE WAS indeed, cold, by the time the two women returned to it half an hour later. They'd spent the time whispering reassurances to each other's ears, and cuddling, trying to let the other know that they were safe, and both knew they would fight, and even kill for each other if they had to. It was an almost unbreakable bond, formed on a foundation of trust that both women knew would be incredibly hard to break. If anyone came between the two of them, they'd be sorry for it. 

The sun had risen much farther above the horizon by that point, lighting up the fields outside the house as the light reflected off the dew, though it was hard to see through the mist that unfurled over the farm, as if helping to any malicious intent or interest. It was pretty, but Roxi could barely bring herself to take her eyes off the beautiful redhead in front of her, the golden light streaming through the window lit up her face magically, and traces of gold swirled in her forest green eyes. Natasha turned to her, a soft smile resting on her face as she laced their hands, enjoying the few tranquil seconds they had while the time lasted.

Unfortunately, that wasn't long, because they were soon disturbed by another knock, this one less gentle, more fast, the person behind the door clearly eager to get on with whatever they were going to do. This time, instead of Steve's calm, slightly nervous voice, Tony's loud, impatient one called out to the two women.

"We need you downstairs to discuss the plan, if you're not too busy." Natasha rolled her eyes while Roxi glared slightly at the door as she heard the man's footsteps trail back down the stairs, though the woman next to her caught her attention again soon enough. The redhead smiled at her softly, and Roxi felt as if her heart was melting at the sight of it. 

"We should probably change out of our pyjamas," Natasha suggested, and a hint of a blush slid onto Roxi's face; she'd completely forgotten they weren't wearing normal clothes. 

"Right, yeah," she mumbled, feeling the warmth spread slightly, avoiding Natasha's gaze and knowing smirk. They arrived downstairs a few minutes later, neither of them showing any sign that anything remotely personal had happened overnight, though clearly, that had been far from the truth. Natasha took a seat at the wooden dining table that Clint had insisted on building a few years ago, and Roxi stood behind her, resting on the back of Natasha's chair, both women's faces carefully calm.

"Ultron took you folks out of play to buy himself time." It was Fury who had begun to explain, and though Roxi had no idea when or how the hell he'd gotten here, that was the least of her worries. Occasionally, she had to remind herself that they were going up against an army of virtually possessed robots that Tony had designed, lead by a homicidal metal maniac, who clearly had his own vision of a perfect world. She supposed they all did. Steve's was back in the 40's, with Peggy and Bucky, and the Howling Commandoes, ready to take up arms and fight whenever he needed. Tony's was with Pepper, probably in a quiet spot, maybe with a kid, simply the happy family life, with the least amount of disturbances at all possible. Thor would have a life on Asgard, with Jane, his mother, father, Loki, his friends, ready to do whatever he needed as future king. Bruce's would be one where he had no fear of the Hulk, maybe one where he had control, somewhere calm, with Elizabeth Ross, a girl he liked from before the accident. Clint's was right here, with his family, and his soon-to-be-born son, a quiet life, probably quite similar to Tony's. Natasha's, she hoped, would be with her, with out looking back on her past, maybe even still working for SHIELD.

But Roxi, all she knew about her 'perfect world' was that she didn't really have one. She knew one thing about it; that she wanted Natasha in it. But other than that, her mind was far to muddled, too confused for her to decide on anything definite. Part of her yearned for battle, ached for it, although she knew it was bad for her, and she almost felt drawn towards fights, violence, and she felt as though a life with out them would be boring, dull. She felt as if it would drive her crazy, and if she didn't have a safer way to exert her emotions, she'd only end up hurting people that she didn't want to hurt, especially Natasha. But too much combat would force her to be twitchy all the time, constantly on high-alert, probably flinching at something as simple as someone breathing, and then she'd hurt someone too. Her past was impossible to forget, while her name wasn't 'public' information, and she felt as if she had to keep it hidden, and consequentially, it made it impossible to deal with her past and move past it. A slight frown appeared on her face as she realised that she didn't have a clear idea of what she really wanted in the future. All she'd ever focused on was staying alive another minute, surviving another day, then moving onto the next. It had been a cycle, an endless circle, but now that she stopped and thought about, the circle stopped too, and her order of life slowly began to unravel, string after string falling out of place as she thought more and more. If she wasn't careful, she'd get caught up in the knotted net of her own tangled life, and beneath the string, lay wires, wires that could cut her, hurt her, make her bleed, and if she stayed caught up in her own life, her old life, for too long, she'd get herself killed.