( brows are still pulled into a tuft, gaze sifting between each of his eyes as if she might find some level of understanding, as if it might make it all fit a little more. there hasn’t been any flare up of the organization in years — even throughout her stint in sokovia, even when she’d been tucked away and unresponsive, someone would have told her. to get to him … )

But why would they want—?

( her thoughts are flustered, incoherent and tangled — she can’t think clearly. it’s all she can do to distinguish between the pain wringing throughout her figure and everything that was him. back, here, why? her eyes flutter something slow, hiding in an exhale as he takes hold of her cheek again. the heat beckons to her, again and again, emanating from him, his touch, masking over the frigid tile beneath her feet, the silent, aching privacy around them.

there’s so much welling inside of her that she doesn’t know where to put it, where to hide it, and finally tears prick at her gaze. )

I don’t need you to protect me. ( her head shakes into his palm, fingers curling tighter into his shirt. ) If that’s why you’re here, if that’s the only reason, please—for me, don’t. I can’t. ( the brief syllables splinter. do this again, let you in just to have you leave. )