Natasha Romanoff ([personal profile] redintheledger) wrote 2013-06-08 02:39 am (UTC)

She nods quickly.

"Don't be late," Natasha says, and darts off to the door. By the time she goes through the doorway, though, her gait is measured and the excitement has been firmly pulled back under her skin.

It doesn't take her that long to come back, wearing clothes sturdy enough to withstand the cold and snow. But if her distinctive dark red curls are mostly hidden underneath her fur-hat, her lips are now red as any other girl going out, with a dash of colour over her eyelids.

It makes her look her age, rather than the fresh-faced kid she normally appears.

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