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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 || 𝘉𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦
THERE HAD BEEN A BUILD OF SILENCE IN THE APARTMENT BESIDES A FEW SOUNDS. Natasha had settled at the kitchen table, nibbling on the tip of her finger. She could hear the tap in the bathroom running, a deep sigh coming from the room as she tried to wrap her mind around everything happening at once. Swarming her mind like the Chitauri invading New York a year ago.
She hadn't made any move to tell Fury or anyone of Jaxon's sudden arrival back in her life. There was no telling what type of problems if she did considering the man down the hall was supposed to be dead. No one just comes back to the land of the living when presumed dead. There had to be some reason behind it, a reason behind how he couldn't remember anything beyond the helicopter crash. A deep stab to her heart, staring at a man she knew all too well, but not having that same sight reciprocated by the man she had never stopped loving, even when he left.
Jaxon had found a way to carve himself into the veins belonging to Natasha and slip himself into the woman's bloodstream. Becoming the cause for Natasha's rapid heartbeat whenever they saw one another, once upon a time. Becoming the serotonin that always made her grin like a lovestruck teenager. He was the oxytocin that released whenever they shared a bed every night and showed their love to one another. Always be filled with dopamine when they harmlessly flirted before they had even considered a relationship together, for good reason. Never caring to be out in the open as long as they had one another. Jaxon had become the drug that Natasha had needed day in and day out when they were together.
But after so long of them not seeing one another, it felt foreign. Everything about Jaxon felt different, even more, different than when they were together, clearly on the opposite teams as he was an assassin and she was the person a part of an organization that hunted people like him down. Nothing about his entrance back into her life felt the tiniest bit of normal like he once gave her. And when he stared at her, confused and lost, she knew that she needed to help him remember. Help him remember her.
The bathroom door opened, her gaze lifting from the ring sat around her finger and to Jaxon who walked down the small hall entering the dining room connected to the kitchen and living room. A black t-shirt hugging his chest with a pair of shorts around his waist. She had offered to go grab him a razor to shave the grizzly beard, but he declined. As bad as it was, Natasha was warming up to the look.
His shaggy black hair was wet from the shower he had taken, a few strands clinging to his forehead as he brushed them out of his vision. Arms covered in old and new scars that a pinkish white to them as they had heeled over and tried to blend in. Everything about him seemed the same besides his mind. But his eyes stayed connected to a photo that had Natasha sitting up in her spot. It had been of them in Italy in their hotel room, both naked under the blankets with Jaxon pressed against her back, nipping at her shoulder with his eyes focused on the camera.
