❝All I need is to remember, how it was to feel alive.❞ [#GunsAndRoses]
Joined March 2015
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It didn't take him long to find @ABuriedRose. Once he did, he moved among the shadows until she was alone. He moved towards her, hiding each and every demon he bore, he grinned and stepped with a pracriced swagger. "{Little rose, my little rose. Care to say hello?}"
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— said softly, trusting that, wherever he was, the wind would bring her words to him.
There she went again with trust. Oh how their old masters would hate what they’d become.
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— already shot him once for it.
It was that mark of trust that let her walk to the window unarmed, a small smile tugging at her lips as she scanned the darkened city for a man who was certainly long gone. It didn’t matter, she knew why he’d come.
“Happy Birthday,” Natasha —
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Her eyes snapped open just in time to see a shadow fleeing through her window.
On instinct, her fingers were already around the gun beneath her pillow, but Natasha released it a moment later. There was only one person who could sneak up on her like that, and the Widow had —
"It's my birthday." He said over a sleeping @BewareTheWidow. "My wish..." he brushed back her hair lightly then scoffed at himself before slipping out the widow and away.
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The Forgotten — {@BewareTheWinter}
Read: tl.gd/n_1sq3dtg
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{@BewareTheWinter} — was watching.
"Happy Birthday James."
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{@BewareTheWinter} — on the table, in plain view from the window. Then she left for the weekend. He knew where she lived. She figured he —
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{@BewareTheWinter} — she would never have.
So yes. Natasha bought him a cupcake. Set it on a plate, stuck a candle in it, and placed it —
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{@BewareTheWinter} — could have fallen in love with her.
She wondered if he remembered it. Having a birthday. The sort of memory that —
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{@BewareTheWinter} — Before. Before the Red Room. Before they died in pieces day after day. Before he became the kind of monster who ever —
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{@BewareTheWinter} — never had a birthday. The Black Widow was above such things. But she couldn't help but wonder if he'd had birthdays. —
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{@BewareTheWinter} — to him, a small chink in her armor that was becoming more and more disturbing as the memories poured in.
She'd —
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{@BewareTheWinter} — all.
Then what the hell did she have this cupcake for?
Natasha didn't have an answer. She rarely did when it came —
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{@BewareTheWinter} — someone would carve those two dates onto a headstone like they meant something, when in reality they meant nothing at —
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{@BewareTheWinter} — beginning of all the pain a person would suffer until they reached another date, when it all just stopped. Then —