Hold On to the Nights || Romanogers AU

Chapter 3

A/N: Hey! Let me know what you guys think of this one. I'm going to work on future Romanogers stories, one shots and a couple other stories I have planned. Until then, thank you! :)

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Natasha imposed on herself an extremely limited budget and hated every part of it. Of course she never spent more than what she earned and knew how to save money so everything she needed was paid for on time, more or less. If she wanted to save something for herself it would have to wait. Some people don't get that luxury and she was one of those individuals. Even today she knew it was her last time eating at the corner bakery deli before trying to figure out what she wanted to do with her life. It was harder than she thought because she knew there was so much pressure from her mother's words to follow in her footsteps and get everything handed to you just by posing in a tawdry photo shoot or a frivolous music video; and walking up to human resources with a resume in hand and getting hired on the spot. It worked for her mother, why not her?

It was her time now, if her mother only wanted her to continue on her road of success. She didn't care what Natasha wanted.

Thinking about her mother turned her skin ghost white followed by goose bumps. She didn't want to be afraid of her but she was. Her mother was very shallow and had claimed Natasha was always wasting her life day dreaming about art and silly things that were nothing more than "meaningless dribble." Natasha didn't want her mother's life. She'd be damned if she was going to head down that road and feel the searing regret later on.

Natasha was different than what the world and her parents perceived her as. She never considered herself boring but then she didn't think she had anything special about her that really stood out. She liked strange things like painting, drawing, sketching, or at least the people around her tend to think it was weird to like those things because they were labeled as hobbies. It wasn't fair for people to judge her before getting to know her. It felt wrong to get sad over it also, Natasha knew it wasn't her fault. She couldn't help but like what she likes or be who she is.

Sometimes she wasn't always sure of that. "Getting your head out of the clouds is your golden ticket to happiness" her dad would say, then again her dad was another story. He wanted her life to fit someone who was well educated and taken care of. She was much closer to him when she was younger but as time went on that had been less and less. Being the daughter of Los Angeles District Court DA wasn't an easy bonding ship. She much preferred his life before he moved up in his career, when he was just a district attorney's assistant. Now he is the lead state DA of the Superior Court. Natasha and her dad rarely if at all have moments where they could go out to dinner or just talk. The more accomplished his life had gotten the more they drifted apart from each other. But he always stated how much his work practically paid for everything she needed growing up.

She didn't know what she was going to do with her life but she knew she had to make it in something. She drove to Santa Monica and walked slowly to the end of the pathway that reached toward the docks. She hadn't come here in a long time; it was a place where she could feel calm and get her mind off the crazy pressures in life. She brought her notepad and pen along with her in case she had a need to sketch something random. It gave her peace whenever she drew, she couldn't explain it. She carried that feeling with her when she was very young and well into adulthood.

Being at the beach, soaking in the ocean mist made everything seem a little easier, until she drove back home. But every time she came there it was like she left hell and stepped into a new kind of heaven. People come to the beach to escape, think, collect their thoughts, observe or create art. Natasha wanted comfort; when she stepped out of the car and sunk her feet into the soft sand she began to close her eyes and revel in it.