Drinking. Open RP.
Natasha picks up the glass, moving around to pour herself another drink almost mechanically. She could be one of Stark’s machines like this, she thinks, the thought amusing somewhere in the recesses of her mind.
“I didn’t come here for your pity,” she tells Harriet, prickly to the last. “And I have not been your dove in a rather long time.“ Despite that, the term is still comforting in a way she isn’t expecting.
Harriet stiffens, draining her glass and pouring the next one as just neat bourbon. “Fine. Then I suppose you ought to leave. My boyfriend will be back soon."
It’s a dig, an obvious one. That she has a new life, without her little dove, her cousin, her best friend. That she doesn’t need the woman anymore.
The dig hits, just as it’s supposed to. Everyone else moves on - it is only Natasha who’s caught helplessly in the past. She fixes her eyes on the woman who once knew her better than any other, and downs the amber liquid.
"And he’ll find you passed out drunk on the sofa. How delightful for him,” she remarks, glass placed back down on the counter. “Although I’d imagine he’s rather used to it by now.”
inheritorofmemories reblogged this from thatsmswatsonthanks and added:
"Ask him about the night of the Expo,” Natasha smirks back, picking up the glass. “I was there, горячий. As you would...
thatsmswatsonthanks reblogged this from inheritorofmemories and added:
“He’s never touched Potts,” she responds slightly viciously. “As you’d know, if you were any good at actually reading...