I Have Some Secrets No One Should Know.
Reblog
8 years ago
♥ 15
+ ivananddmitri

Like Breathing Was Easy. [+ivananddmitiri/Mainverse]

ivananddmitri:

inheritorofmemories:

Natasha had forgotten quite how introspective Ivan could get when he was in the mood, and while she understands it, it still sparks a little impatience within her. “Mistakes are made, and if we’re lucky, we get to correct them,” she shrugs. “You did. I’m here. Karma doesn’t come into it.”

She begins the familiar routine of stretching out, glad that she’d come prepared for this eventuality. While she’s not unaccustomed to sparring in clothes that definitely don’t fit the mould, she prefers to have every advantage - especially with Ivan.

Once she’s loosened up, Natasha climbs up, offering Ivan her hand with a smirk. “Come on, old man,” she calls. “If I win this bout, you call me Natasha?”

Ivan cast aside all other thoughts, focusing on the prospect of going toe-to-toe with the infamous Black Widow once again. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how much he needed this. He’d spent several weeks moping around, not sticking to his training regimen. It had been far longer since he’d had a worthwhile opponent before that. If he wasn’t careful, he would start getting rusty. 

A light chuckle escaped his lips at her wager. “Even if you won that bet, which I don’t think you’re so guaranteed to, I don’t think I could hold to it. Old habits die hard, and this particular habit is ancient, much like the man afflicted with it. In any case, let’s go, old woman.” A playful smirk tugged at his lips, as Ivan was one of the people who knew that Natalia was even older than him. Taking a typical Sambo stance—wanting to keep in line with the reoccurring theme of nostalgia the day was having—he began to circle Nat slowly, eyes focused.

Hanging back, assessing the situation, Natasha’s movements are easy, patient - a far cry from the impetuous sparring partner she was before. Time and scars have taught her patience as only pain can, and her stance matches his. This style feels like coming home; this is the first time in a long time that she has found a partner worthy of it.

She stops suddenly, glancing at Ivan with a small smirk. Feinting left, she moves right, quickly and with force, away from him. If she’s in a ring, she may as well use it to her advantage, feeling the spring of the ropes as she pushes against them. She’s far slighter than Ivan, but it has never impeded her before - she can compensate as necessary, and she is far from out of practise.