˗ˏˋ romanogers oneshots ˎˊ˗

champagne problems

Almost is a strange yet versatile word. People use that word in almost every situation. She almost did it, she almost got there, she almost found it. It, being happiness of course. But one would know that there isn't truly happiness in this world. 

It was cold. It always was, almost all year round. It was Russia after all, what did you expect? But it was exceptionally cold, both emotionally and weather-like. They say that Christmas comes earlier than it used to, and perhaps they speak truly. But that year, something felt amiss as Christmas was rounding the corner. There was an unbearable cold air around, and that was not a good sign.

Dinner parties with friends and family, toasts of celebration and joy, season greetings all around. It was supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year, except it wasn't. Natasha never knew why Steve asked to go to Russia and spend Christmas then, but she had a suspicion of what was to happen. And she was prepared to say no. Because how could a broken, torn apart person like her, ever be happy with someone ever so perfect like him. It was all impossible. 

Despite what he constantly told her, she never truly believed him. The red in her ledger was always going to be there. Even if it wasn't gushing, there would always be a ugly big stain. One that would never change even years later. Despite being able to wield Mjolnir, she didn't deem herself to be worthy enough. And being in Russia brought back unhealthy memories she had hoped to leave behind, for the healing scars were suddenly open and raw again. And there was nothing that could fix her, not even him, not anymore. It simply hurt too much and was too much to handle. 

But like I said, they almost got it. That night, they had toasted with French champagne, Dom Perignon. That black bottle and the vibrant sparkly taste still haunts her in her dreams. He insisted they take a stroll out in the moonlight and she obliged, half knowing what was to come. It was a beautiful snowy night, and as the snow fell, the atmosphere became tense. The air was cold and she felt like she was a little cold too that night. The love that lay between them felt tragic, in shades of grey and candle lights. Something inside her was screaming for her to leave, something about her not being worthy enough. Madame B's voice echoed in her mind. "You have no place in the world." 

And then he did it: right there, on the steps of the landing outside the house. The ring was his mom's old one. Typical Steve Rogers. She would say she wasn't surprised but that wasn't true. He had outdone himself once again, and shocked her. In that moment when she looked down at his beaming face, she had the urge to say yes. But she wasn't ready and the only answer she would have for him was no. 

"I'm sorry Steve. I can't." She looked down. "You know I can't love. So no, I can't. I'm sorry. But one day, you'll find someone better than me worthy of your love and you'll love her more than you'll ever love me. I'm sure of that." And with that, she turned on her heel to leave, taking one last look at him. 

His face fell. As she looked back at him crestfallen on the landing, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pity for him. She longed to run into his arms and hold him, to stroke his hair and assure him that everything would be alright. She almost did, but she didn't. And she did the one thing she had ever known her whole life, run. 

Her Christmas that year was spent on the run, lonelier than ever. The time between the proposal and Christmas had seemed so far away then, but when it came, it was the most tragic one she had. Not even her Red Room days had been that dark. Perhaps it was the thought of having love, well almost having it anyways and then losing it that made it particularly hard. Christmas was supposed to be celebratory after all, but here she was, mourning a love that never made it. 

As ironic as it may be, her name, Natasha, meant Christmas. And whilst that would be a joyous thing which one would celebrate, Natasha Romanoff didn't. Her tragic love would just keep coming back to haunt her. And as she looked around and saw happy families, loving couples, she felt a greater pain in her heart. Christmas had shocked her once again, this time, not in a good way. Damn it, why can't time pass a little slower. And why couldn't she have said yes on that landing. Maybe then, she wouldn't be in such a pitiful state, lonely, single and distraught on Christmas Day. 

Russia suddenly became colder to her than it already was. In the past, whenever she had a problem, she would run to Russia. But after what had happened, it was no longer safe. It wasn't home, not anymore. She didn't know where to go anymore. For years, she was on the run. But somehow, everywhere she ran, it reminded her of him. Of the times they spent in those places, or plans they had made to visit one day. It just hurt so much. No matter how much she longed to forget him, he was always with her, constantly flooding her thoughts, being her hallucinations in her consciousness and being nightmares in her dreams. 

Years passed, and she thought she had finally moved on. He definitely did. She saw him laughing with another girl on her trip back to New York. Part of her felt a tinge of jealousy, for he had brought her to their secret hideout and her favorite café, but she told herself that she had to move on. Deep down she knew that some scars were too raw and would never heal, no matter how long it took. But she also knew that the girl he had met was perfect for him, and would love him more than she ever could. As jealous as she might have been, she was happy that he was happy, and it was all that ever mattered. 

She finally settled in Paris, France, which was ironically nicknamed, the city of love. And as she sipped Dom Perignon each night, she was once again reminded of the love that haunted her. But she could only move on, she had to. So as she sat a different café every Wednesday, sipping tea, she could only hope that somehow her life would begin again.

A/N: fanfiction that i once again, wrote in school. at this point are we even surprised? i don't wanna go back to school help holidays were so fun rip me urgh. also your votes and comments brighten my darkest days please do it ily. queen of angst and shit strikes again, you are very welcome.