All the conflicting emotions that have been raging through Natasha on the entire drive back -- the fear that he might be gone balanced by the hope that he is, the need to see him balanced by the awkward weight of the turn their relationship has taken, and the things she'll never put into words; the ones that have kept her awake in endless strange beds, staring up at the ceiling and aching -- they're all drowned out by the sheer and overwhelming relief that he's still there. Not to mention the genuine pleasure of seeing him again. Hell, but she's missed him.
There's a wide and genuine grin on her lips when he pulls her into that rib-crushing hug and she wraps her arms around his shoulders to pull him in even closer, hugging him back far too tight. Their bodies press flush together -- fitting like they always do -- and it's hard to breathe, but that doesn't fucking matter. It's been far too long since they hugged like this and she has missed it. She has missed him. Missed them. More than there are words to describe it.
"You look like shit," she informs him by way of greeting, her voice slightly breathless and very teasing, but there's a core of unending fondness beneath it all.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-06-06 04:03 pm (UTC)There's a wide and genuine grin on her lips when he pulls her into that rib-crushing hug and she wraps her arms around his shoulders to pull him in even closer, hugging him back far too tight. Their bodies press flush together -- fitting like they always do -- and it's hard to breathe, but that doesn't fucking matter. It's been far too long since they hugged like this and she has missed it. She has missed him. Missed them. More than there are words to describe it.
"You look like shit," she informs him by way of greeting, her voice slightly breathless and very teasing, but there's a core of unending fondness beneath it all.