This chapter is @jcromanova for thank you so much for the idea of this chapter, I hope you like it!
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Sorry this will not be romantic.
Natasha's point of view:
Part 1
I feel a cool steady breath tickling the side of my face and a constant heart rate of the person next to me. By the husky smooth breath I know it Yelena there's a hitch in her breath like when she's scared.
The room is pitch black like we're trapped in our sleep but our eyes are open. I always preferred the dark the loneliness, shadows and lack of light or hope it made me feel at home. In the red room I would hide in the dark the walls squishing me close it was comforting being alone. Its a monster so am I. It's quite easy to make friends with the dark.
But I always love fire
Yelena always hated it. In Ohio she would associate it with monster and death. It's sad she didn't realise the real monster was the person she was clinging onto.
That's the difference between us Yelena was the sunny summer days in the meadow and I was the winter thunder storm over the ocean, she was the hope and I was the fear.
Yelena's still scared. I feel her breath hitch again even though she's trying to hide it, her hand grasping onto mine with desperation and it's turning cold.
I feel around in the many pockets of my/Yelena's vest and find my box of matches. It's a small box one side for scraping the match. It feels like home.
I grab a match and struggle to light it on the rough side with only one hand as the other is keeping Yelena together. The minute the fire catches I smile fire, the flame is small a mixture of red, orange and yellow but still kind of translucent.
Yelena turns to me the match twinkling her in ocean green eyes that were my home and haunting place for so many years. The light frames her face as it does mine and with that a small ray of heat warms our cheeks.
I remember feeling a tug on my sheets as I lay pretending to be asleep. One late spring night. I never really slept.
"Natasha" I hear a faint voice call in between a sob. I turn in the darkness to see a faint image of little blonde girl, yelena, she was just five at the time.
Her eyes beautiful usaully sunshiney green eyes were stained with tears that made her eyes glossy in small bit of light in the room. I push a part of my red hair out of my face, "Hey what's wrong firefly" I say softly sitting up.
