Natasha Romanoff One-Shots

Working late

Pov y/n 

My eyes are glued to the screen in front of me, my fingers fly over the letters and word by word sentences appear on the paper. They form a story, a world, an escape. I love writing, it feels like my escape into a world I design all by and for myself. 

My headphones play silent, classical music and I hear nothing around me.
It's like I'm completely shut off from the world around me.
Nothing else matters, just me, the music and the words. 

Sentence by sentence the story takes its place and becomes more and more.
Writing is my absolute passion and it doesn't matter if it's just for me or for someone else.

 Sometimes I write stories for my girlfriend because she loves reading my stories. She always gets excited when I give her new pages to read.
It just gets complicated when I'm working on a novel because I always want to finish the chapter before I give it to her. 

That's why I write short stories in between, they are finished faster and she can read them while I'm working on a new chapter.
They also help me concentrate because they take my mind off something when I feel like I don't know how to go on with my novel.
There's no whole story needed, they are just there for entertainment and aren't as complex as a new chapter.
They also help the motivation because they don't take quite as long to write and I feel like I get something done.

I bite my lip concentrated while writing a heated argument. My blood feels like it's boiling a little too because I get so caught up in my stories that I feel every emotion I write down.
It makes it more passionate but also leaves me crying when it's really sad.

Usually I work on my desk but it got uncomfortable after a long time and I moved to the sofa. The laptop is placed on my legs and a blanket is covering my legs so the laptop doesn't burn them.
I don't know how long I've been writing, I haven't checked the clock on my laptop and in our living room is no clock.
It's probably a little later because the sun went down and the room is mostly dark except from the light that comes from my laptop.
I turned on the light of my keyboard so I can see where the keys are. 

Just as I reread a paragraph a redhead appears in the doorframe. I notice my girlfriend after a quick glance and give her a small smile before returning to my story. 

Shaking my head, I delete the last three sentences and rewrite them, completely in my own world again.
I jump a little when one side of my headphones is lifted and smash some letters on the keyboard.

"I asked how long you've been writing?" Natasha asks me softly.
I shrug and turn my head back to the screen, deleting the keyboard-smash.
"I don't know. Why?"
It may seem rude to be typing while she is talking to me but she knows how caught up I get in my writing and reassures me that she finds it cute.
 It just feels like a vibe I'm in when I'm writing and I'm worried I'll lose it if I get too distracted. 

"How long till the paragraph's done?"
My eyes fly over the page and I think a few seconds.
"Five minutes." She nods and gets up.
I always need to finish my thought until I can talk for a longer time because otherwise, I lose it. She respects that and always lets me finish the paragraph before she talks to me for a longer time.

Words flow onto the paper in the screen until I've got everything out and I stare at the screen, not focusing on anything.
I pull my headphones down and lift my eyes from the screen.
Nat sat down on the other end of the sofa, watching me. She sees me taking my headphones off and comes to sit by my side. 

I smile at her and give her a welcoming kiss since she was on a mission the past two days.
"I thought you'd come home late tonight." I say as I let my eyes wander over her suit. She doesn't have any cuts or damages and seems to be fine.
"I am, babe. When did you last checked the clock?" A little worry swings in her tone. 

"I don't know, around seven p.m. I guess. But it can't be that late, I have been writing for just two hours since then, three at last."
Her eyes search for mine and she shakes her head as she finds them.
"Sweetheart, it's three in the morning." 

"No, can't be." I protest but when she holds her phone out to me I see that she's right. I have been writing for eight hours? But it felt like two or three. 

"I guess I've got a bit caught up." I mumble. She hums in agreement.
"I think it's time to go to bed." Her voice is gentle and she brushes a strain of hair out of my face.

"No, I can't. I have to finish this chapter, please. It's not that much anymore, maybe just like four pages." Her look stays sweet but she shakes her head.
"It's not that much and I'm not even tired." I try to convince her.
"You know I love you, your writing and watching you write but it's the middle of the night and you need your sleep, baby."