The ghosts we hide (Winter Soldier x OC)

Twenty eight

I duck as a fist comes flying towards my face.

Natasha stumbles past me, allowing me the opportunity to sweep her legs from under her. Unfortunately, the ex-assassin predicts my move, twisting in mid air to wrap her arms around my legs and forcing my knees to buckle. I hit the floor harder than her, the breathe knocked out of my lungs.

I roll to the side as the red head tries to get on top of me, narrowly avoiding an arm lock.

I'm on my feet in an instant, fighting to inhale as I try to workout where the next attack will come from.

Pride has never been something I've had a lot of, and therefore it brings me no shame to lose to Natasha. My limbs feel heavy after my strenuous treadmill session and my brain is even more tired than earlier, begging to shut down for a while.

My whole body wants this fight to be over as soon as possible, and that's exactly what I plan on happening.

We dance around each other for a few more minutes, blocking and jabbing, attempting and failing to gain the upper hand on each other. When I'm satisfied I've given the impression of trying hard, I stop trying all together.

Natasha aims a fist as my head which I dodge easily, but her focus isn't in my face and we both know it. Her leg sweeps back as she moves past me, intending to knock me off my feet.

I allow the force to send me forwards to the ground, pretending not to have seen her quick flash of movement. The red head is on top of me in the same second, a sharp knee between my shoulder blades as she twists my arm painfully behind my back.

I struggle half heartedly for a moment, trying to dislodge her, but soon give up. I tap the mat with my free hand and she gets off me immediately.

I roll onto my back and into a sitting position as I try to catch my breathe, more sweat dripping down my forehead. Natasha walks away, back to me, as she reaches for a water bottle at the other side of the room.

I remain seated as my chest continues to heave, fatigue now lumbering clumsily through my muscles. Looking up, my already racing heart beats even faster when two blue eyes catch mine. Bucky stares at me, a frown on his sharp features. His brow furrows, almost in accusation.

Averting my gaze quickly, I find Steve sat at one of the weight machines. He smiles lightly when our eyes meet.

"Better luck next time Nyx." He shrugs. I swear I see a hint of smugness in his grin.

"She doesn't need luck - she needs to actually try."

My gaze snaps back to Natasha as she stand with her hands on her hips, a scowl tugging at her lips. Her face isn't angry, more disappointed than anything else. Something stirs in my stomach but I stifle it.

I didn't want to fight in the first place.

"W- what do you mean?" I ask innocently, kicking myself for stuttering.

She shakes her head at me, a small tinge of humour breaking through her stony expression.

"You let me knock you down. I know you predicted my move, but you didn't bother to get out the way."

"Don't know what you're talking about."

She huffs, narrowing her emerald gaze before looking to Steve and Bucky for support. The latter glances between Natasha and I, remaining silent as usual. His focus rests on me for a moment as he raises his eyebrows at me. I stare back, for once unbothered. Bucky shrugs then and turns back to his work out.