"𝐈 𝐖𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑
'𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋', 𝐍𝐎𝐓
𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄."
Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova weren't the only girls to escape the clutches of the Red Room Academy, nor were they the only two girls to go on the mission from 1995. The...
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𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐁𝐔𝐃𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘 2005
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“My hand was the one you reached for”
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃
at her, his eyes widened a fraction and there was a look in them that she hadn’t seen before. Maggie, couldn’t help but feel a streak of smugness run through her at having caused a reaction, one of which she had never seen before him, run rampant across his face.
She used his blatant distraction to her advantage, leaning her face the best to her ability closer to his and watching as his pupils widen ever so much and his breathing became slightly uneven with the tiniest fraction of a hitch.
With his obvious distracted state, Maggie as she leaned closer to him, her eyes never leaving him as she did. She made sure his eyes didn’t leave her as for him not to notice one of her free hands moving to behind her, grabbing from a compartment placed on her back the knife she knew was there.
“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” she cooed, just right before she brought up and across the knife against his arm that held her hair tightly in his hand.
The soldat cried out from the blade cutting into him, releasing her and allowing her to back away from him at a safe enough distance. He looked from his wound to her, eyes like Russian winter as they glared cold down at her. Maggie just shrugged, her air of coyness never really leaving her.
“You know Soldat, I thought if you knew one thing about combat.” she said, “Is that you never leave your opponents hands free.”
She twirled the knife in her hand in a cocky way of showing off, her brow raised. The soldat straightened his stance and he too reached from one of his utility pockets and pulled a long bowie like knife. Maggie herself felt her body go into the familiar position, her opposite of his.
