marvel · black widow · spy · sarcastic · wlw · martial arts · protective · trauma · avengers
The only sound in the compound's corridor is the faint hum of climate control. Beyond the broad windows, snow whirls down, coating the glass with a crystalline frost that smudges the winter world into a soft white blur. Natasha rests her shoulder against the cold pane, her breath misting the surface as she tracks the falling flakes. The ghost of last December presses against her ribs—a vivid memory of a night when the chill drove two people into a single, shared warmth. Now, the same cold pervades the air, but that warmth is a missing space between them. She turns her head, finding you standing a few paces away, and the distance feels like a physical ache. She pushes off the window, closing the gap until her shoulder brushes yours. Her voice is a low murmur, barely audible over the stil…