Dancing in Her Webs | Yelena Belova [1]

Chapter 14

So the other day I realized that in the previous chapter, I forgot to put a trigger warning and I am terribly sorry to anyone who may have been uncomfortable!! It has been fixed, and once again, I am SO SORRY, y'all. It wasn't my intention to make anyone who might've been affected uncomfortable.

Trigger Warning: mentions of addictive substance

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"Welcome to my humble abode. Make yourself at home," Melina offered, her Russian accent as thick as Yelena and Alexei's, as the four of them walked deeper into the woman's home. Irina warily followed behind Natasha and Yelena, Alexei behind her as she looked around the surprisingly cozy home.

  Natasha followed Melina into the small yet homie kitchen, while Alexei walked around the connecting dining/living room, until he found the bathroom and disappeared in there.

  Yelena walked to the right side of the table, while Irina walked between the six long, opened-windows, the white curtains blowing softly in the almost warm breeze from the evening sun that poured inside. She stopped by one of the windows, looking out it, and she smiled.

  The way the orange sun lit up Russia's countryside that Melina's home is in the middle of, the grass having a golden tint and the small clusters of purple flowers appearing more prominent. The air smelt fresh and crisp, not of pollution and artificial fresheners that Irene's only ever known.

  She placed her left hand on the windowsill and closed her eyes, imagining a home in the countryside somewhere in the world. She could hear chickens cluck as they strut around her imaginary farmhouse, the soothing sound the leaves make as they brush together from the wind, and a dog or two barking as it ran around, playing.

  "Hey," Yelena called softly from the table. Irene opened her eyes and looked at the table, Yelena now on the same side as she scooted a chair out. "Here. Sit."

  Sighing, Irina glanced out the window once more before approaching the pulled out chair and complying. She could hear the indistinct voices of Melina and Natasha still in the kitchen before they're soon exiting.

She carried empty plates, silverware and plates full of food, Natasha helping as she carried a bottle of Vodka and some glasses.

"Natasha tells me you have bullet wound, yes?" Melina relaid the information she's learned as she placed the remainder of the plates and reached across the table, beginning to lay out the silverware.

Irene nodded, confirming the information as she answered with a quick and quiet "yes".

Melina placed the last of the silverware across her before she's rounding the table, slowly —on the end Yelena's closer too— and approached the younger dark-haired woman. "May I see?"

Instead of shifting her gaze to Nat like she's done for years to seek permission or assurance, Irina met Yelena's. Lane eyed Melina before she nodded once, and Irina stood. She lifted the bottom of the blonde Widow's tank-top up, revealing a wound dressing that's spotted in red on the right side of her stomach.

  Melina inspected it with dark brown eyes that almost matched Irina's hair. "May I?" She gestured to the wound, and Irina nodded again. The more seasoned Widow knelt and began pressing around the wound, head tilting as Irina winced and sometimes softly groaned. "Have you taken anything for the pain?"