[Natasha sighs, very tired and suddenly feeling very old. Older than it seems like she has any right too, as though there's too much life crammed into too little time.
It's petty, but there's something about this that feels deeply unfair to her, a weird little complaint that comes up now and again. She is supposed to be dead. And the dead aren't supposed to have to deal with the consequences. She's not supposed to have to look her best friend in the eyes after she died for him, or to examine what her own death meant to her. All of this was supposed to have been someone else's problem.]
Come here. Please. [Motioning him a little closer on the bed.]
no subject
[Natasha sighs, very tired and suddenly feeling very old. Older than it seems like she has any right too, as though there's too much life crammed into too little time.
It's petty, but there's something about this that feels deeply unfair to her, a weird little complaint that comes up now and again. She is supposed to be dead. And the dead aren't supposed to have to deal with the consequences. She's not supposed to have to look her best friend in the eyes after she died for him, or to examine what her own death meant to her. All of this was supposed to have been someone else's problem.]
Come here. Please. [Motioning him a little closer on the bed.]