Number Neighbors- Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Chapter 22

If you thought it was suffocating to be the center of a room of attention it was ten times worse being the center of Natasha Romanoff's attention. And yet, you can't tear your eyes away from hers. Why was she looking at you?

You feel more than see the glares all the men send your way as she saunters over to you and leans on the bar in front of you. The proximity- Gods you were going to pass out for real this time. Would she catch you? She had quick enough reflexes for it.

There's a scent that floods your senses that must be hers and it makes your head spin for the second time that night. You'd only gotten here twenty minutes ago.

You should say something. Anything would be nice instead of you staring at her like a starstruck child. Come on Y/n-

"Why do they have you back here making the drinks?" Did that sound like an insult? Oh god it did, didn't it? You were dead. You accidentally insulted The Black Widow and now you would get flipped over a table and no one would bat an eye. At least you got to die after meeting her. Goodbye, world.

You slowly exhale and subconsciously lean away from her as you stare at the ceiling. Hypnotic eye contact is sufficiently broken as your heart pounds a million beats per minute. Maybe this was how she killed you. Just by looking at you.

To your surprise, there's a playful smirk on her face when you finally muster enough courage to look back at her. Something in you skips a beat.

"Maybe it's because I'm good at it" Her eyes track your face before she stands up straight and turns around, grabbing two bottles from behind her once again. You watch as she expertly moves through the motions of making a drink. It's different from the one she made herself, this one has some type of syrup and fresh fruit shaken into it. When she's done she pulls a glass from under the bar and pours the drink effortlessly into it, adding a little umbrella that you take a little too much delight in receiving.

She crosses her arms, once again letting her body lean against the cool material of the bartop.

You don't hesitate to pick up the drink. You'd probably drink poison if she gave it to you. As you take a sip she adamantly watches your reaction. This whole interaction feels strangely intimate and you have to wonder if this is how everyone feels when they meet her. The rest of the party was long gone from your mind.

The flavors from the drink danced on your tongue and you were pleasantly surprised at how little alcohol you could taste. You were a little scared after seeing the labels on the bottles she'd used for her own drink but this was genuinely delicious.

Before you can tell her it's good another man calls out to her. Her attention is sufficiently pulled away from you as she goes to give the man and his two girl friends beers. You sip your drink as you watch them interact but you feel your heart tighten when you see her giving a similar flirtatious look to the two women.

Ah. you understand now. She was just doing her job keeping the guests entertained. Stark parties had a high reputation, after all, they couldn't have you leaving feeling unsatisfied with your visit. You carefully observed the way Natasha watched their body language, their eyes. Reading what made them react most. The same way she'd done to you. It was all an act.

You want to feel hurt but realistically what were you expecting? That Natasha would choose you? She was here talking to you and everyone else out of obligation not because she wanted to. You turn around and look for your friend, spotting her laughing as she sips a flute of champagne they were passing around on trays. You should've just grabbed one of those. Even if it didn't taste as good as your drink. Hand-made for you. By Natasha Romanoff.