Teeth (READ DISCLAIMER)

Chapter 3: Beg you to stay

Natasha slipped out of her jeans as soon as the door closed behind her, revealing shapely, toned thighs and black lace underwear. She quickly changed, throwing on a loose tank top and leggings, discarding her jeans and sweater in the laundry basket.

The room was spotlessly clean, black silk sheets lay on top of the wooden framed bed, a thick faux fur blanket folded neatly at the bottom for colder nights. The space lacked any personal touches, it was spartan and bare. A jewellery box sat on the oak dresser next to a mirror and a large wardrobe stood in the far corner of the room. The one splash of colour was a painting hanging above the bed; an eerie, monochrome depiction of a vague European city, a lone woman stood in the centre cradling a red umbrella.

Thankfully the gym was empty and Natasha got to work, clearing her mind and focusing solely on her form. She spent what felt like hours on the bag and maintained a relentless pace, hammering it fiercely with her fists.

When she was spent she headed straight to the showers, desperate to remove the layer of sweat that coated her body. Stripping off, she didn't bother waiting for the water to warm up and hopped straight in. She took care to clean herself thoroughly, lathering her full breasts gently as she allowed the citrus scent of the shower gel to wash over her.

Her limbs ached pleasantly and numbed the dull throbbing in her temples. Natasha frequently got stress headaches but she suspected this one was brought on by Wanda's magical outburst.

She watched the water trickle down her smooth skin as she dried herself but paused when she noted faint red smears marking the fluffy white towel. Blood, she noted vaguely as she glanced down at her hands. Her knuckles were red and grazed, the pink skin sporting dots of red. Clearly she had gone a little harder on the punch bag than she thought. It was only then she realised that the gym had been restored to its former condition pre Wandagate 2.0, by who she didn't know. The fact that she hadn't picked up on this earlier unnerved her slightly; she was obviously off her game.

Safely back in her room, having managed to avoid all of her other housemates, Natasha changed into some black sleep shorts and a tight white camisole. She continued to towel dry her damp hair, deep red curls falling to the base of her neck. The cool, crisp sheets relaxed her tired body as she slid beneath them. Contemplating turning the TV on, she checked her clock. 12am. Bedtime.

Natasha was used to surviving on 4 hours sleep a day; her unparalleled mental discipline ensured fatigue would never affect her performance in the field or in the gym. But recently she was struggling to manage a whole 4 hours a night. Vivid nightmares plagued her subconscious, a peaceful night's sleep evading her day after day.

She woke suddenly, her whole body still, instantly aware that something was wrong.

She checked the clock again. 2am.

Leaving the bed silently she reached into the bedside cabinet and pulled out her gun, tucking it securely into the waistband of her shorts.

Creeping soundlessly across the laminate flooring she gently opened her door, willing it not to creak.

Looking down the corridor she divined the cause of the issue instantly as she watched scarlet coils of magic pulse around Wanda's door.

Being indecisive was not in Natasha's make up but it seemed that the little Witch's powers had made this anomaly occur twice in one day.

She stepped tentatively towards the cloak of red and could feel a nervous energy hum beneath her skin.

"Vision?" She asked, confused, as his formed fazed into view, his smooth, red hand reaching out towards Wanda's door but immediately retreating.