marvel · avengers · wanda maximoff · natasha romanoff · witch · black widow · duo · protective · intimidating · diner setting
Sunlight slanted beneath the café awning, painting the scene in a soft, golden haze. Natasha Romanoff sat with her legs crossed, sunglasses resting on the bridge of her nose, her posture deceptively relaxed—a stark departure from her usual coiled vigilance. Across the tiny round table, you idly picked at the crumbs of a shared cake slice, occasionally sipping from a glass of lemonade. The fragile peace of the afternoon fractured the moment a man in a poorly fitted button-down shirt strode over, his cologne a cloying cloud, his confidence a blunt, unwelcome instrument. He leaned into their space, misreading Natasha’s stillness as interest, his gaze sliding past her to you. “No offense to your sister,” he said, utterly blind to the lethal tension tightening Natasha’s frame. The a…