An Assassin's Creed | Natasha Romanoff

Chapter 3

"So how are you feeling today?" Natasha asked into her phone as she held it pressed against her ear with her shoulder, unwrapping and placing a hot pocket into her microwave. She hopped up onto the island counter watching the timer count down and began chewing on her nails as she waited for Eden to respond.

"Ah you know, the usual. I barely feel my arm anymore, it's more of a nuisance, but my side and head still hurt. Particularly my side. It hurts whenever I move or do anything...my head only hurts when I brush my hand against it." Eden huffed into the phone, causing the redhead assassin to chuckle dryly and smile into the phone. When the microwaved beeped, she jumped down, grabbed her hot meal, and walked back over to the island, hopping back up on the counter. "How are you? How was your workout? Today was your gym day, right? God, I miss going to the gym..."

Natasha chuckled and shook her head. For the past two weeks, Natasha spent every spare minute she had with Eden, helping her do things for her while she was recovering and consequentially becoming her friend and keeping her company.

"It was alright, and honestly you're not missing anything." She paused a second and took a bite. "It's more therapy at this point; it's not fun. It's like work."

"Still. Must be better than what you actually do for a living. At the very least it's better than sitting at home all day bored out of my mind."

"Well, maybe if you went for that walk everyday like I suggested, maybe you wouldn't be so bored," Natasha quipped as she took another bite and rolled her eyes. A smirk worked its way onto her face, and it stretched further when she heard Eden huff a big sigh.

"You know what, Nat..."

"What?"

Eden was quiet for a second, and when she answered back, her voice erupted in loud surprise. "You know what I just realized?"

"What?"

"I just realized that I don't know your last name. Like obviously you're not just Natalie; you're Natalie Something Someone. God, it's like you're not even real, like I made you up or something. Can you tell me your name? Would that be weird? Am I crossing a line or something?—"

"Are you high or something?" Natasha asked, swallowing a giggle. She was reluctant to give out all of her information to this woman who—despite their closeness—was still a relative stranger, but a large enough part of her wanted to change how she viewed people. It was a lonely existence to look at people through the eyes of a spy.

"Perhaps...I might've taken too many pain relievers..."

"It's Rushman."

"What is?"

"My name: Natalie Rushman."

"Oh. That's pretty. So...what're you up to right now?"

"Nothing much. Just eating my lunch/dinner." She finished her hot pocket and licked the stray sauce off her fingers. Getting off the counter, she grabbed her plate and placed it in the sink, grimacing at how full it was getting. She mentally groaned at the thought of having to eventually man up and do the dishes.

"I hope it was something healthy. After all you spent most of the day at the gym; wouldn't want to undo all of that progress..."

"Are you calling me fat?" Natasha asked, with a humorous smirk and feigning hurt.

"No—"