Regret Me

With you

I had to talk to Natasha.

I hadn't actually slept at all because I knew I needed to talk to Natasha. I owed her that much. In the early hours of this morning, I sent her a message saying that we needed to talk. Everyone hates receiving that message because what follows is never pleasant, but I didn't know how else to do it. Rip the band-aid off, right? She hadn't responded until six hours later.

Luckily for me, it was a Saturday, so I didn't have to be anywhere today but here, with the girl whose heart I was about to break. I didn't know where I stood with Lizzie, but I knew, no matter what, Natasha deserved to know what we had spoken about and the moment we shared when she was previously in New York. Having been awake all night, I was now on my fifth cup of coffee and was pacing the floor of my apartment. I could bet money on the downstairs neighbours hating me for the footing but I had bigger fish to fry.

Dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of underwear, I had previously pulled my hair into a very very messy bun on the top of my head, using a spare chopstick I found on my bedroom floor to hold it together. The bags under my eyes may as well have been designer and the state of the black nail varnish on my hands was atrocious from the way I had been picking at it. I was spiralling, I knew full well I was spiralling but it was too far in it to pull myself out. If I didn't say what I needed to say now, I fear I may actually burst. I was pulled out of my thoughts very abruptly by three knocks on the door. Those three knocks alone told me it was not Natasha standing on the other side. Running across the apartment, I pulled the door open and saw Lizzie dressed in her pjs too.

"I had to see you," she started.

"You can't be here right now," I replied quickly, looking over her shoulder.

"I've been thinking about you all night and I- fuck it," she mumbled, stepping forward and kissing my lips harshly.

Taking me by surprise, I didn't kiss back until a few seconds later, at which a horrible feeling rushed over me.

"You need to go," I told her against her lips.

"No," she sighed, "I need to be here, with you. This is exactly where I need to be."

"No, Elizabeth, I- Nat's on her way over and-" as I started speaking, the sounds of Natasha's boots coming up the hall echoed into my apartment.

"I'll hide?" Lizzie asked.

"Fuck fuck fuck," I muttered, grabbing her wrist and pulling her into my apartment, "ummm bathroom, go in the bathroom."

"Bathroom," she repeated, looking around like we had all the time in the world, "where's the bathroom."

"Through the bedroom, first door," I told her, pushing her in that direction, "please do not come out until I get you ... please."

She nodded quickly and hid herself away just as the doorbell rang, Natasha's way of telling me that she was here now too.

"What are you doing Y/N," I sighed to myself, opening the door and placing a small smile on my lips.

Nat was stood smiling, holding a bunch of roses, in my shirt and a pair of leggings. She had clearly just woken up too, but she looked ten times better than I did.

"Hey dekta," she whispered.

"Hi," I sighed, stepping aside and letting her in, "what are these for?"

She handed me the flowers and led me to the lounge where we both sat down next to each other in silence.

"I know you wanted to talk to me, but let me go first," she spoke.