Chasing Ghosts | Natasha Romanoff

Chapter 18: The Familiar Feeling Of Death

Natasha

Six months ago

It was a surprisingly warm day in the state of New York, so all the windows in the house were open. The new house. Their new home.

After the exciting news from the orphanage, they didn't have time to put off the renovation of the house anymore. Well, renovation... It was more making it their taste by buying furniture, laying down new floors and painting the walls. The latter was on their to-do list today, starting with Maya's room, which was most important to finish first.

''Have you ever painted a wall before?'' Katya asked as she covered the floor with plastic sheets to protect the new wooden planks. Because she knew how clumsy she was sometimes, she wore some old clothes in case the paint fell on it. Just an oversized shirt with some old running shorts. 

''Does it look like I have?'' Natasha joked back, trying to open the can of paint. They had bickered a long time about the right color to pick, but eventually settled on a light pastel purple. 

She had opted for a tight tank top, which showed off her shoulder and back muscles when she struggled to open the can. Together with the shorts that showed off her toned legs, Katya wasn't sure all her paint lines would be neat today.

''Maybe we should have called Clint,'' she laughed. They had Googled everything and did what multiple websites told them to. I mean, it was just paint, how difficult could it be?

''Definitely not,'' Natasha chuckled, shaking her head while stirring the paint slowly. ''He would have laughed at us and you make enough fun of me as it is.''

''I don't make fun of you. I think it's adorable that you have no clue how to do these mundane things.'' Natasha raised an eyebrow at that, not believing she just called her 'adorable'. ''Yes, you are adorable, deal with it. Now how is that paint coming along?''

Eventually, they figured it out, rolling the paint on the walls in clean enough strokes. Nobody would come close enough to inspect it anyway, and they didn't care about it being perfect. As long as it was purple, it was fine. 

Katya softly hummed to herself, which made Natasha smile. It felt peaceful, calm. Occasionally, the warm wind would tug a strand of hair out of Katya's tiny ponytail and blow it in her face. She'd wipe it away with her wrist, because her hand was already covered in purple. 

She could sense that Natasha was nervous about taking Maya in. Nervous about not doing her job right, nervous about not being a good parent. She didn't think she could do it, despite Clint's kids absolutely adoring her. Katya felt some jitters herself, but after years of visiting the orphanages every day, she got enough practice in. 

That didn't mean she suddenly knew everything though, and she hadn't addressed Natasha's fears too much, because she didn't want her to feel ashamed of those feelings. 

If Katya knew anything though, it was that her nerves were all for nothing. Maya would love her just as much as Katya did. Because anyone who didn't love Natasha just didn't know her. That heart of hers was too big for her own good sometimes.

It didn't take too long to paint two of the four walls, leaving the other two white for some contrast. Satisfied, they stepped backwards and admired their handywork. Their clothes were covered in splatters, even the top of their hair, but it didn't look too bad. There wasn't even something on the ceiling. 

''Not bad for the first time,'' Katya concluded, hands on her hips.

Natasha hummed in agreement, turning to her wife who looked extremely proud of herself. ''Kat. You have a little...'' she trailed off, pointing to her own cheek. She went to wipe it off with her arm, but Natasha shook her head and stepped closer, going to do it for her. But at the last second, she smeared the paint on her own hand all over Katya's slightly red cheek.