Natasha Romanoff, a Red Room assassin, is hired to kill the glorious Captain America before he changes the world in all his star, spangled glory. However, as she gets closer and closer to her target, she begins to fall harder and harder for the man...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Music played softly from the speakers in the dance studio, the sweet melody wafting through the room. The wooden, polished floors shone in the light, and Natasha's reflection danced in the surrounding mirrors. She was alone, finally, after teaching class all day. She had portrayed herself to be many things, but a dance teacher was a first. Children had never really been her forte but to her surprise, teaching had gone well and she had managed to enjoy it. Although, she would never say that out loud. There was something beautiful about seeing innocent children smile, children never to know pain and fear; torture and rape. There was something beautiful about seeing children who weren't being prepared as the next generation of Black Widows; something beautiful about seeing children who would never turn out like her.
The sun was already setting over the city but before she locked up for the night, every teacher needed to practice what they taught. Her ballet moves were effortless and well-practiced, engraved in her brain with hours upon hours of practice. It was the perfect coverup for the Red Room because who would expect a ballerina to even know how to shoot a gun?
She leaped and spun, balanced and poised with pointed toes. Her shoes were worn like her heart - as if she had one - but for one precious second, she felt free. She didn't have Madame B. critiquing her every move with future Black Widow's watching and learning. She didn't have the lingering thought of death in her mind, the lingering smell of blood in the air that never really seemed to leave the Red Room. It was just her and the music leading her through a routine she came up with as she danced. When the song faded and silence fell upon the studio, Natasha exhaled the breath she didn't realize she had been holding as she danced her final move. The numbness returned to her chest as she slipped off her shoes and brushed strands of her red hair from her face. It was little moments like that keeping Natasha afloat, that kept her from drowning in the onslaught of waves that the demons in her mind tried to drown her in. It was little moments of enjoyment and peace that colored her world in white instead of red, that kept her from putting a gun to her head just to end it all.
Only now, she had a reason not to.
The kitten.
Well, Liho to be exact.
The damned kitten who ran around the apartment at three AM and begged for food at ungodly hours of the day. However, as much as the cat got on her nerves, Natasha had swiftly come to love her company, and she didn't have the heart to re-home her.
Liho was her reason, no matter how insignificant to others it may be.
Turning off the stereo and lights, she locked the dance studio and made her way back to her apartment down the street. Her attention was swiftly cast down on her phone when she noticed a text she had been waiting for.
✉️ SR: Hey it's steve. I was wondering if you'd want to get coffee or something. It's totally okay if not but you've been on my mind since I met you yesterday
