☽ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*☽
▂ ▃ ▅ ▆ █ вιggeѕт ғear █ ▆ ▅ ▃ ▂
♕Her blood splatters against the ground, staining the rubble beneath her, pouring out around her, the exact color of her ruby red lip stick.
Her fire red hair is sprawled out around her, framing her portioned face perfectly; too bad she is so close to death.
Her heart is racing as she looks around for the attacker, her green eyes not spotting anything- not a single thing.
But her eyes pause as her eyes skim across a man, and god, she hopes it's not him, and her heart stops immediately and crushes inside her, her hand covering her mouth as she holds back a cry; a scream.
She begins to crawl from under the wreckage, the pain barely bearable, her face contorted in pain.
Finally, as if years had passed, she collapses next to him; she can't control herself as she weeps, watching as the blood makes its way from his dead body, his face as white as snow- minus the black and blue bruises claiming his face as their own.
She brings a shaky hand to his dirty blonde hair, running it through softly until she can't take it anymore and screams as loud as she can, beating the ground with her bloody fist.
Why him? Why her hest friend, the only one who has ever seen the good from her bad- the one who chose not to kill her. Is this her repayment to him? To Barton? Death, although he defeated it for her.
Natasha Romanoff has no fears but that of being a disappointment- she has let down Clint Barton and she should be the one dead instead of the innocent man she calls her best friend.
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