The Color Of You

Chapter 7

After opening up to Natasha and Wanda about what happened that night and experiencing their comforting presence, you found yourself at their house whenever you weren't studying. You still slept at the dorm, and on some evenings, you'd hang out with Kate, watching movies when she wasn't with Chris, the guy she started dating around 2 months ago.

Yelena, on the other hand, had been spending more time at Dave's apartment, and you couldn't blame her. In fact, you secretly liked it because it meant you could find alone time with Wanda or Natasha. They never questioned why you showed up at their place asking for Yelena when you had a phone. Instead, they greeted you with smiles and welcomed you to stay, and you hadn't turned down their invitation yet.

So it's how you ended up sitting by Natasha's side on the couch as she opened her laptop and began scrolling through various art pieces. Her eyes danced with excitement as she explained the intricate details and artists behind each creation. You might not have considered yourself a big fan of art, but as you listened to her passionate descriptions in that raspy voice of hers, you couldn't help but feel a warm fondness well up within you. For a brief moment, she was yours, even if only in your imagination, and it felt wonderful to pretend.

Natasha's slender fingers moved gracefully across the laptop's touchpad, zooming in on specific parts of the artwork that captivated her. "You can see how his bold strokes weave a beautiful narrative through the piece, seamlessly blending roughness and softness," she explained, her raspy voice sending a shiver down your spine.

All you could think was that she was the beautiful one. No work of art could compete with her natural beauty, and you found yourself easily losing hours just gazing at her. Lately, you had become fixated on her lips, appreciating the way they curved and moved when she spoke. Every time the tip of her pink tongue would slide out to moisten her lips, a pleasant tingle would travel from your stomach down between your legs. The first time it happened, you had nearly gasped, but you managed to keep your reactions to yourself. You found a secret pleasure in indulging these thoughts.

You turned your attention to what Natasha was saying as she squeezed you closer in the half-hug she had you in on the couch.

You watched as she changed to the next piece, a graphic painting of the female body in an intricate pose filled the screen. "Exquisite, isn't it?" Natasha sighed dreamily. You found yourself unable to look away from the erotic painting, but you got even more transfixed when you tore your eyes away to focus on Natasha fixated on her expression and the sultry tone of her voice, you couldn't stop your reaction and could feel heat crawl up your neck to settle on your cheeks.

Your body reacted with a shiver, and you reluctantly tore your gaze away when Natasha's eyes briefly met yours. Your heart raced as you tried to focus on the artwork displayed, but it became increasingly difficult as warmth spread through your body, making you feel strangely drawn to the sensuous shapes and positions within the painting.

A sudden slam of the front door broke the spell, causing you to jump away from Natasha, turning your attention toward the source of the noise. Wanda stood there, shaking snow from her coat, and you nervously wet your lips, regretting your abrupt movement as her eyes locked onto yours.

Wanda gracefully removed her coat and draped it over an armchair before approaching you with a gentle smile. "Y/N, it's lovely to see your sweet face again," she greeted warmly, but her eyes held a teasing glint. "let's hope you won't avoid us again."

You stammered in response, unable to to defend your previous action, although you weren't quite ready to admit your childish behavior. You turned to Natasha, seeking support, but she only chuckled softly.

"Ah, don't look at me, little duckling. I can only agree with Wanda," Natasha chimed in, her eyes twinkling as she winked at you before returning her attention to the screen. You couldn't help but pout in her direction.