The Color Of You

Chapter 12

The days leading up to New Year's Eve were a whirlwind. You found yourself preoccupied in assisting Natasha at her gallery, and whenever you weren't there, you were spending time with Yelena, who was gradually moving in with Dave. After staying over at Natasha and Wanda's place, you called Yelena the following day, choosing not to divulge the specifics of your sleeping arrangements. Sharing that intimate experience was out of the question while you were still struggling to deal with your own feelings about it. The memory of waking up between them lingered—how their warm bodies felt against yours, and feel their arms holding you so securely. It was an unfamiliar sensation, simultaneously terrifying because you yearned to remain in that moment forever, yet also sparking a desire to bask in their presence like a contented cat.

The conflicting emotions only added to your mental turmoil. Having no one you felt comfortable confiding in made the situation worse. Yelena seemed oblivious, and you tried to convince yourself that your growing feelings for her sister were not a glaring warning sign for your friendship. You foresaw no scenario where this could end well, which further discouraged you.

Natasha must have sensed something amiss, giving you space, but you weren't sure if it helped the turmoil or added to the anxiety brewing beneath your skin. No matter how hard you attempted to shake off these feelings, there seemed to be no cure. Even a simple glance from Natasha made you feel as though you were set ablaze.

Everything led to a moment where you found yourself seated on the floor of Natasha's spacious office. There was no real need to be there, doing paperwork on the floor, but for some reason, that's exactly what you needed that day. Earlier, a minor panic attack had gripped you while staring at yourself in the mirror, attempting to talk some sense into your chaotic thoughts. But all sense seemed to evaporate the moment your eyes met Natasha's upon entering the gallery. You cursed inwardly as she glided over, practically floating in her 6-inch heels. No amount of internal pep talks could shield you from her captivating smile, and when her eyes crinkled at the corners, you were utterly lost.

You realized the futility of trying to defend your tender heart against Natasha. She had this uncanny ability to turn your heart into a frenzied mess, and oddly enough, you didn't feel remorseful. In that moment, Yelena faded from your thoughts as you succumbed to your desires, letting Natasha's essence, down to the very molecules of her being, conquer you. She might not have been aware of it, but you were certain you appeared as a complete wreck in her presence, perhaps a puddle on the floor waiting to be scooped up.

When she pulled you into a hug, you savored it, acknowledging your vulnerability. You were willing to admit defeat, realizing you had no defenses against her. It felt as though Natasha only needed to breathe in your direction, and you would crumble.

There, on the floor of Natasha's office, you found a strange sense of grounding. The cold seeped through your tights, oddly aiding your attempts to focus on work. Despite the urge to seek out Natasha like a lovesick puppy, you resisted. You could admit it more openly now—you weren't blind to what was happening within you. Yet, you wished falling for someone wasn't this bewildering, that it didn't feel like losing yourself along the way. The girl you were at the start of the year seemed worlds apart from the person you were now. Pausing your work, you peered into the mirror on the wall. Where once you despised your reflection, now there was a spark there that you appreciated, perhaps a confidence born from the clothes adorning your body—clothes bought with the money earned at Natasha's Gallery.

Clothing had never held much significance for you, but now, running your fingers over the fabric, it seemed different. It was easier to focus on your appearance when you hoped for someone to notice, and for you, it was truly about two people: Natasha and Wanda. You were no longer the girl taunted in school for outdated clothes or the one who struggled with makeup and hairstyles. The younger version of yourself, desperate for your mother's approval, seemed to have found peace.