AU: Your Future Was Me [@ivananddmitri]
ihavesomesecretsnooneshouldknow:
Natasha starts the car once more, once the cigarette is in her mouth once more. She’s concentrating on the road, and it’s only in the occasional glance over at Ivan that she realises something is wrong. She pulls over once more, leaning over to bring his gaze around to meet hers.
“что беспокоит тебя, мой волк?” she asks him quietly, running her fingers down his jaw. There’s no need for the rush of before, and with twenty miles to go, she must ask now. She’s followed the shifting of his thoughts, but she cannot quite guess at the subject matter. While she’s familiar with the ebb and flow of his thoughts, this particular line is foreign to her.
Ivan sighed softly when he felt the car come to a stop, already knowing what was coming next. When he heard the worry in Natalia’s voice, and felt her touch, he turned to look over at her. ”Глупость, любовь моя. Не беспокойтесь, с такими вещами.” He did not want to burden her with his idiotic fantasies of things that could never be. His earlier comment about simply taking a break seemed so ill-received, that he thought the mere mention of thinking about stopping altogether was out of the question. Still, despite his words, he could not put up a false smile, or hide the sadness in his eyes. He could never bring himself to lie to her. She was truly his one and only weakness, but what a weakness she was indeed.
Natasha’s unhappy with the answer, but she knows that Ivan will only continue to evade - never lie, but never answer his question either. Instead, she takes a moment, pressing her temple to his, as she takes the chance to do in the field when they have a moment before their battle commences. Two minds, brilliant and cultivated for this, brought to the brink by their attachment for each other. Yet the sadness lingers on his face, and she hates not being able to alleviate it. She presses her mouth to his, before leaning back, restarting the car. “Our holiday then,” she remarks, pulling her sunglasses back on and lighting another cigarette - it’s a habit she must break, but it is her favourite vice. “Shall we make play at being normal? Dinner, drinks?”
(Source: inheritorofmemories)
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