[ Her smile cuts sharp. It even reaches her eyes, the way the set of her shoulders turns a little. ]
What do I call you, then.
[ Paranoia fits like a worn, old love. Natasha doesn't radiate trust, but she tries to be kinder, actively works towards it. Being afraid never means having to show it. ]
no subject
What do I call you, then.
[ Paranoia fits like a worn, old love. Natasha doesn't radiate trust, but she tries to be kinder, actively works towards it. Being afraid never means having to show it. ]