⮕ 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐓 ❘ [𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊𝖑 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖙𝖘]

▬▬▬▬ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑱𝒐𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏

Nathan's expression morphed into something like discomfort and hurt, "Jo, I'm not gonna hurt you. I have a daughter myself,"

"Then what are you doing in my apartment?!" Joanna retorted, raising her voice.

"Shh!" Nathan shushed her, "You don't want your Aunt Grace to wake, do you, kid?"

"I'll worry about that, not you!" Joanna jabbed a finger towards him, confused as to how on Earth he could worry about waking her Aunt when his man had the nerve to break in and was telling her to calm down about it.

"Relax, Jo," he coaxed, "I just want to talk, okay?" He sat on the table beside the couch, leaning back on it as he nursed his cup of tea. He set the other cup on the table, nodding for her to take it.

Joanna just stared at him blankly, debating on whether or not she should contact Peter or Tony.

Nathan gave her a concerned look, "Are you really not tired? That fight was so long. And you and Peter kept getting in between,"

"I am not gonna have tea with you after you tried to kill me and Peter and then broke into my house!" Joanna pointed a finger at him.

Nathan frowned at her like a confused child, "I did not try to kill you. A, I got you out of the way to get rid of an obstacle. And B, I did not break anything. I'm way skillful than that. I got in through the window as stealthy as a cat. And C, there's no need to be so defensive, when I'm not defensive. And believe me, I'm the most stubborn, defensive person you'd meet. Okay?"

Joanna shook her head to herself, and let out a scoff of humorless laugh. 

"You're so aggressive. I'm not going to hurt you. I promise. I don't have any weapons on me," Nathan raised his free hand at his side.

The teen narrowed his eyes at the gun holster around his waist.

"Okay, I take that back," Nathan caved in, "I don't have any weapons currently in my hands," his eyes darted to the strap around his wrist that held mini tasers, "Oh, never mind," he brushed the matter off.

"Come on, tea's going cold," Nathan ushered her forward to take a seat on the other side of the table, "Please, my husband says it's good for you,"

But Joanna only stared at him, trying to figure out why he was being so civil, instead of taking her down as she expected him to.

"You're probably thinking, 'What? This is crazy. I'm going to have tea with the enemy? And it smells really really good," he tried to convince, "I can make something if you're hungry," his eyes lit up, "Oh, I know this secret macaroni recipe that my friend taught me. You can try it,"

"No, tea is okay, I guess," Joanna sat on the chair across from him.

"But in all honesty, if I wanted to kill you—" 

"I'd be dead already," The teen nodded in understanding.

"Right as you open the door,"

"I probably wouldn't have time to shut it,"

"No," he chuckled.

"I'd have been dead. Okay," Joanna winced, "Gotcha,"

↠━━━━ღ◆ღ━━━━↞

Finishing her tea, Joanna set down her cup on the table, looking up at the Russian supersoldier in front of her.

"You finished?" he asked.

"Yeah,"

"Want some more," he nudged the kettle towards her, offering her some more.