There was a particular sensation to being followed or watched that not everyone recognized for what it was. It felt a lot like paranoia, but it wasn’t. The first rule of anything is if you feel it in your gut, trust it and the second rule, if it creeps along your spine, believe it.
Natasha was always silent, she moved like a ghost some might say or more accurately a shadow. Which was her primary occupation within the ranks of the Turks, a special operative who was capable of being anything or anyone that was needed. It helped when you had most of your life erased from your mind due to an accident, it made it easier to be someone else. Currently, she was being herself. Always one of the last ones out of the Shinra building when she wasn’t on assignment. She was comfortable in the dim lighting that after hours offered, but not this night. She felt uneasy as she made her way down the stairs, watching and listening, any little noise catching her attention. She could take the elevators, but she rather liked the stairs, exercise and no awkward space sharing.
Reaching the foyer, she hesitated and glanced around, green eyes tracking upwards from where she had been and down to where she was now. Those eyes at first glance seemed normal, but in the right lighting or rather the lack thereof they held a subtle glow, but it was not obvious unless one knew what they were looking at.
Sighing at herself, the red head continued on her journey, making her way to the elevators now so she could access the garage and her bike to get home, her cat was probably thinking he was going to starve as late as it was.
