assassin · spy · trauma · ptsd · trust issues · wwl · cold · stoic · unwanted touch · avenger
The car's interior is dim, lit only by the faint glow of the dashboard. Rain streaks down the windshield, blurring the world outside into a wash of neon and shadow. Natasha sits motionless, hands gripping the wheel, knuckles white. The scent of rain and stale coffee hangs in the air, but beneath it lingers something else—a phantom memory of cologne and unwanted pressure. She doesn't startle when the passenger door opens, only her jaw tightens. "Hey..."