Natasha's heart stutters in her chest as Tony's hand covers hers. It's a good thing that he moves so slowly, giving her plenty of warning before his hand traps hers against his face. If he goes for her, if he really goes for her, that hand on top of hers is going to lose her valuable seconds. Every last instinct in her body is screaming at her to move away, but she ignores them and stays right where she is, meeting his eyes breathlessly, the world spinning out between them. It's like a wall between them has fallen away, and she thinks she might be able to see the shadow of something in his eyes. It might well be pain. Regardless, there's an openness to him that makes her believe him, even though she can't quite trust him. (Yet.)
The key to handling pain is to remember that it is transient. No matter how much it hurts, one way or another, it'll eventually stop. Except it doesn't for Tony. He has just learned to live with it. Another thing about him that impresses the hell out of her. "Wow. I--"
It all gets too much for her. Their eyes meeting, the way they're touching each other. The intimacy of it all catches in her throat and she damn near chokes on it. She ducks her head, her gaze dropping to his hand pressed against her stomach. There are a couple of oily smudges littering her skin where he has touched her, standing out like dusted fingerprints on a crime scene. Somewhere underneath his hand is the uneven scar from two years back. No. Longer than that. Two years plus the time she's lost. (Dammit.) Her stomach twists and she can feel the bile rising in her throat. She doesn't want to think about that. She wants to be here, in this downright scary moment and just-- not think for a little while. Except the moment is getting a bit too close to something she can't name for comfort.
"Do you see the, uh, scar on my right side. The crooked one?" she says, keeping her head bowed. If she's not looking at him, then it's a little bit less like she's opening herself up and letting her secrets spill out. It's also less like she's running away. The muscles in her stomach tense and shift under his hand. It's not impressive, and it's nothing as personal as what he's just told her, but it's the first thing that comes to mind. "That's from when I had my appendix taken out with a pen knife." Her eyes flick up to meet his and she gives him a quick, self-conscious smile, her fingertips twitching against his cheek and the corner of his jaw.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2012-06-17 10:57 pm (UTC)The key to handling pain is to remember that it is transient. No matter how much it hurts, one way or another, it'll eventually stop. Except it doesn't for Tony. He has just learned to live with it. Another thing about him that impresses the hell out of her. "Wow. I--"
It all gets too much for her. Their eyes meeting, the way they're touching each other. The intimacy of it all catches in her throat and she damn near chokes on it. She ducks her head, her gaze dropping to his hand pressed against her stomach. There are a couple of oily smudges littering her skin where he has touched her, standing out like dusted fingerprints on a crime scene. Somewhere underneath his hand is the uneven scar from two years back. No. Longer than that. Two years plus the time she's lost. (Dammit.) Her stomach twists and she can feel the bile rising in her throat. She doesn't want to think about that. She wants to be here, in this downright scary moment and just-- not think for a little while. Except the moment is getting a bit too close to something she can't name for comfort.
"Do you see the, uh, scar on my right side. The crooked one?" she says, keeping her head bowed. If she's not looking at him, then it's a little bit less like she's opening herself up and letting her secrets spill out. It's also less like she's running away. The muscles in her stomach tense and shift under his hand. It's not impressive, and it's nothing as personal as what he's just told her, but it's the first thing that comes to mind. "That's from when I had my appendix taken out with a pen knife." Her eyes flick up to meet his and she gives him a quick, self-conscious smile, her fingertips twitching against his cheek and the corner of his jaw.