natasha romanoff one-shots (gxg)

𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 - 𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥 (𝟑/𝟒)

a/n: part 3 :)

"Nat, I need to talk to you."

The woman turns around, trying to keep a straight face but failing desperately. You can see the slight sense of panic in her eyes. "Okay...?"

You're sitting in your room. It's almost midnight and you're not doing anything in particular; you're just hanging out, talking, listening to (quiet) music. The air is cool and breezing through the open window into your room, messing up your hair.

You take her hand, brushing your thumb across its back. "Everything's fine, don't worry. I just...I was thinking about us, and how we don't really have a label yet. We've been dating since what, November? — and we're still not, I don't know..."

"What?"

"Girlfriends", you finally finish your sentence. "We're not girlfriends, at least not officially."

Natasha blinks slowly, her hand gently squeezing yours. "Do we need a label, Y/N?"

That was not the answer you expected. You lift your eyebrows in disbelief. "I mean, I'd like it if we did."

She nods, carefully. "Listen, I know what you mean. And I totally understand. But...I don't think we're ready for that yet. The age gap-"

"Don't you dare start with that fucking age gap again."

"I have to", she says gently. "Because it's an aspect of our relationship that we can't and shouldn't ignore. I don't want to rush this, and I want to keep this as safe as possible for you. The more we commit..." The redhead stops talking.

You pull away your hand. "That's your solution? Not committing to each other? Are you kidding me??"

Natasha gives you a pleading look. "Y/N, please. I love you, I do. But I can't risk hurting you."

"Hurting me by asking me to be your girlfriend?" You shake your head. "That's new." You laugh bitterly.

"You know that's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean? Come on, explain it. In detail, Romanoff." Your eyes are glistening with anger and frustration. She sighs.

"I can't."

"Of course." You wipe your eyes with your hands, chuckling sadly. "You know what? Go to your room. I don't need you here tonight."

"Y/N..."

"I'm serious. Leave."

Natasha looks at you for a few seconds, her eyes full of pain and guilt. Then she nods and gets up, quietly closing the door behind her.

. . .

When you see her in the kitchen in the morning, she gives you a hopeful look. You just ignore her, making your way past the handful of people who are standing between the coffee machine and you.

It's not like you to just give someone the cold shoulder, but you can't help it. You're really angry, and you need to stay away from her for a while before this escalates. As much as you currently can't stand talking to her, you still don't want to break up. You really don't.

"Everything okay?", Wanda carefully asks, giving you a worried look as you're basically stabbing your omelet. You nod grimly, shoving a piece of egg into your mouth. "It doesn't seem like it."

"I'm fine", you mutter.

"Fascinating.", she says quietly, glancing at your plate. "How that plate hasn't shattered all over the table yet."

"Very funny."

She laughs. "Come on, what happened?"

Natasha. Natasha happened. But you can't tell her that, for obvious reasons.