Winter's Widow

Chapter 66

get ready for some Bucky being a puppy yalls

Natasha's pov:

I'm laying awake in bed and I can't sleep. I close my eyes, but every time I do, I see things I don't want to see. Flashes of red and black little ballerinas, all twirling in a row. Little girls all beaten and broken. Little girls all shooting guns, being punished every time they miss. Little girls all like me, taking orders from the world's most feared assassin. All undergoing training from the Winter Soldier. Every time I almost fall asleep, something startles me and I jolt into consciousness. Every time that happens, I pull on my cuffs. My wrist will start bleeding soon if I'm not more careful. It's already pretty red and a little cut up. I grab the keys from my bedside drawer and unlock the cuffs. I shove the cuffs in the drawer and rub my sore wrist. I just really don't feel ok right now. Something feels off. It's not right. It's not safe.

I throw on my boots, because I was already wearing my normal clothes. I didn't bother changing before going to bed. I grab my switchblade and stuff it in my pocket. I slowly open the door and step out into the living room. Seeing nobody there, I take a seat on the couch. Toying with the switch blade in my hands, I look carefully at the smooth red that decorates the handle. I press the button and the blade pops out. Taking in the little details, I run my fingers over the silver blade. Playing with weapons helps me think and ease tension. Right now, I still don't feel right, but at least I feel sorta safe. I hear heavy steps coming up the stairs, but it's so faint that I decide it's not important. The only thing that should matter to me right now in this pretty little blade in my hands. One of my favorite gifts from Clint. He thought the red would be nice black widow aesthetic. He was right. This is one of my all time favorite knives. I continue to feel over the glittering blade. It actually kinda reminds me of myself. A little red weapon that doesn't look like much at first, but if you press my buttons, you'll see how sharp I really am.

He leans over my shoulder and takes the blade from my hands, gently setting it aside. I snap back into reality when he removes the blade from my bloody hand. I guess in my trance, I didn't realize how hard I was pressing on the sharp blade. It's only one cut on my palm, and it doesn't really hurt, but it's still bleeding quite a bit. He comes back with a paper towel for me. I wrap it over my palm, and wait for the bleeding to cease. He closes the blade and rest his chin on my head from behind the couch. He wraps his arms around me and stays there for a moment. Not a word is spoken between the two of us. We have no need to. I check the bleeding on my palm, and it's starting to stop. I wipe it down one last time and throw the towel to the side. The soldier comes around to the other side of the couch and sits down next to me. He looks at me, but I don't acknowledge him. I know it annoys him. He likes having my attention. He's like a puppy.

He grabs my arm softly nudging it. I still don't look at him. He nudges me a little more, begging me to notice him. I continue to pretend he's not there. He wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me onto his lap in another annoyed attempt for my attention. I still don't give it to him. I turn head away in a tilt. Exposing my neck was a mistake. He bites me in one last desperate attempt. This one actually works. Once he lets go I whip my head around to him and give him the attention he wants. He smiles devilishly with pride. He leans his head on my shoulder and I wrap my arm around him. He kinda reminds me of a german shepherd puppy. Well, in his case, a russian shepherd.

[but for real, Bucky is a russian shepherd. big fluffy bear dog that looks scary but is really a cinnamon roll. super cute fr tho.]

I slip out of his arms and off his lap. He looks at me with disappointment and confusion. He's not done yet. I grab my knife and start heading for my room. He follows close behind; like a goddamn dog. I enter my room and throw the switch blade on the floor. I sit on the bed and wait for my bear puppy to join me. He shuts the door and then crawls up next to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and laying his head on my lap. I lay back on the bed so I can rest my head on the pillow. I feel him lift off my lap for a moment, but don't bother to open my eyes. I feel him crawling up to where I am. He plops down next to me and hugs me, burying his head in my side. I shift my position a little and he growls. Now I'm laying on my side, facing him. I rest my hand on his head and play with his hair. His breath is hot against my chest. It's calming.

That's how we slept the rest of the night.