BEWARE THE BITE, BEWARE THE STING. it is poison, it is fire --- i am it, i am the flood. always the one to hurt, never to be hurt. always CURSED to be the pin that those close to you will prick their fingers upon. blame the land, blame the people ------ this country, that country. this flag, that flag. ALL RED, all bloody, holding to ideals that will kill as much as let live. these hands hold their own pounds of flesh. you owe no one but yourself.
❝ what is it, ‘lena ? ❞
look at her, look at her cynicism, look at her arrogance shielding sorrow. natasha knows the stain of delusion when she sees it, & it is painted in every line & curve of the ex - widow’s face. of course she recognizes it ; she knows what it’s like. what she is less familiar with, yet so intimately smothered by in her foil’s presence, is knowing just how much she had to do with it.
❝ SOMETHING’S ON YOUR MIND. ❞ it’s funny, really. typically yelena is the one doing the psychoanalysis recently. things change. but people never do. she saunters in silence ‘til she stands behind the blonde, leaning to rest her chin atop the curve of her shoulder. a moment, & she turns to press her lips to the meeting of jaw & neck, breath warm against the skin as her hands find yelena’s, bringing them up to rest against her sternum, fingers intertwined / interlocked. ❝ make the call, & i can get your mind off of things, or we can sleep. ❞
/ &* EXVDOVA - cont.