Natasha groaned and blindly patted down the empty space beside her. A God of Thunder had laid here, his soft snores lulling Natasha to sleep after a rather scandalous night out ended just a few hours prior. Now all that remained from their festivities was a trashed rec room and a throbbing in her skull. Eventually, she found the strength to sit up and look around. Mjolnir still rested beside the bed but its owner was nowhere to be seen.The aroma of Sunday morning breakfast wafting from the kitchen downstairs had probably roused him. But all it did for Natasha was make her stomach do somersaults.
She squinted at the bright screen of her phone and groaned again, now at the time. It was well past noon but still too early for the mansion to be bustling with traffic as it usually was on any given weekday.
Mustering all the strength and will she thought possible at this point in time, she rose to her bare feet and padded over to the bathroom to plop down on the tiled floor in front of the toilet. It was more of a preventive measure than a necessary one. She didn’t know how long she had been sat there but eventually Thor found her, silently and effortlessly lifting her up to stand and handing her two aspirin and a cup of black coffee. She murmured a thanks and he waved in response before taking his leave.
Though it once seemed impossible to believe, it turned out that all she really needed to almost feel like herself again was that coffee, a long, steaming hot shower and a fresh change of clothes.
She wrapped herself in a black silk sheet, hooding her head and draping over her shoulders and hummed The Imperial March to herself, feeling quite like a Sith Lord as she navigated the mansion to the now miraculously spotless rec room. She plopped down on the soft couch, sunk deep into its cushions and turned on the television. Mm, Catfish reruns.
He rises with a groan of his own, stretching out tired muscles and half-swatting at the air. Peter runs a quick hand through his hair, tousling it more than fixing it, and swings his feet onto the floor. A quick sniff reveals there’s breakfast ready somewhere and he manages to coax up a bit more energy, padding out into the main rooms.
He spies a mass of uncombed red hair, arching a brow and movign to stand behind the couch. “Catfish, huh? Definitely would’ve taken you for more a Rock of Love kinda’ gal, but if anyone’s gonna’ be full of surprises, it’d be you.” Peter flashes a still-sleepy grin, leaning over a bit before blinking.”
“Jesus, Nat, you look....uh-,” He swallows hard, tilting his head a little bit in equal parts curiosity and concern, “Sort of tired. You go and hit the town last night or something?”
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