[He hesitates a moment, because it feels like a misstep, like he's offered something too heavy. Something in the way that she says he could take her to the roof and it would be perfect. It feels like she's from years behind him, like she doesn't know the things that he does wrong. So offering a date feels unfair- but then maybe he's just a coward these days. Or maybe it's just the look that curves her lips, the warmth and like there's something in him to adore.
He doesn't know if the fact that he does take her hand in the end makes it worse or not. But when has he ever been able to refuse her? Even if for him everything feels like broken pieces that don't quite fit together anymore.]
I don't think anyone's ever been able to keep up with you.
[Shies from the challenge there, not quite a flinch, but while he's always carried as much weight on his shoulders as he could find, it's still somehow worse these days. But maybe getting rid of the grief beard will help, at least. He leads her through the suite to his room, which is clean to military standards, nothing personal aside from the incongruous sniper rifle in the corner.]
[ At the sight of the weapon, memories of missions and rescues and well-meaning watchfulness play out in the Russian's mind, most gladly but a few with a bitter aftertaste. And makes her ask - ] The duffel bag; what was in yours, if I may ask?
[ Natalia looks from the gun to the owner, hovering in the center of James's room and committing the layout to memory. Ritual drives the categorizing of every possible thing that can be used as a means to cause harm (not against James, but in defense of him, should anyone be fool enough to carry out an attack), but she's also learning his space. The space he took up without her while being trapped here.
My old leather jacket, a necklace- [His voice catches there and he shrugs it off, exhaling a little bit shakily. He's wearing it now, under his shirt. He could show her, but then there would be things he doesn't know how to talk about. So instead he just shrugs it off.]
A few weapons; including the sniper rifle.
[A rose from her. But he leaves that out, even if it's the part that he should tell her most of all. But it doesn't feel like he deserves that. She cares for him, maybe even still loves him. And things are complicated for him. There's loss and hurt and he can't even bring himself to tell her about Dodger, even if he half feels like he needs to-- god knows that two eyes isn't enough to keep an eye on him.
And Dodger needs people looking out for him. Needs people that understand what it is to have been something dark and been able to walk away from it. Bucky's not as good of an example of that as he wishes he was, but Natasha would be good for him he thinks, if Bucky wasn't so selfish.]
{ In which, Natalia shaves James's face and cleans up the ends of his hair. Because it's more important to learn the now, the present, she keeps the conversation on learning all things Hell. She keeps the knowledge of wearing his rose necklace to herself. For now.
no subject
He doesn't know if the fact that he does take her hand in the end makes it worse or not. But when has he ever been able to refuse her? Even if for him everything feels like broken pieces that don't quite fit together anymore.]
I don't think anyone's ever been able to keep up with you.
[Shies from the challenge there, not quite a flinch, but while he's always carried as much weight on his shoulders as he could find, it's still somehow worse these days. But maybe getting rid of the grief beard will help, at least. He leads her through the suite to his room, which is clean to military standards, nothing personal aside from the incongruous sniper rifle in the corner.]
no subject
[ Natalia looks from the gun to the owner, hovering in the center of James's room and committing the layout to memory. Ritual drives the categorizing of every possible thing that can be used as a means to cause harm (not against James, but in defense of him, should anyone be fool enough to carry out an attack), but she's also learning his space. The space he took up without her while being trapped here.
[ She hates knowing that. ]
no subject
A few weapons; including the sniper rifle.
[A rose from her. But he leaves that out, even if it's the part that he should tell her most of all. But it doesn't feel like he deserves that. She cares for him, maybe even still loves him. And things are complicated for him. There's loss and hurt and he can't even bring himself to tell her about Dodger, even if he half feels like he needs to-- god knows that two eyes isn't enough to keep an eye on him.
And Dodger needs people looking out for him. Needs people that understand what it is to have been something dark and been able to walk away from it. Bucky's not as good of an example of that as he wishes he was, but Natasha would be good for him he thinks, if Bucky wasn't so selfish.]
Summary wrap up;