⇢ @70yearsofwinter | @wavellites
✘ ⌖ ➶ The black 2025 Ford Mustang roared its way to the arrivals entrance at the airport. Natasha had to admit, for the first time in a very long time, she was happy. Dare she say it? She was nearly giddy. One of her closest friends was finally coming back to New York. There was no judgement in the fact that Steve Rogers needed a sojourn after the war against Thanos. He'd given everything he has to keep the world safe; it was a about time he was afforded a break. Natasha had to admit, though, she had missed him while he was away. In her near century of life, she could count on one hand the number of people that she actually trusts, and the former Captain America was absolutely one of them.
With Bucky in the passenger seat, she kept her eyes on the road, swerving around cars going far too slow for her tastes. Bucky was a completely different matter as well. She didn't know if there was a term for what they were, but that didn't bother her. Bridges that she thought long since demolished were being rebuilt. Slowly, but steadily. It was truly the first time since the "blip" that she felt like she belonged somewhere; that she had a family. Of course, all of these good feelings put the redhead on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. If she was happy, then surely there was some evil mastermind about to put their world dominating plan into action.
For now, however, she was content to lose herself in the moment and Chappell Roan that played through the speakers.
Finally pulling up at the Arrivals curb, she put the Mustang in park and hopped out. "His plane should have landed a half hour ago, which means he should be walking out any minute," she told James as she folded her arms over her chest and leaned her hip against her car.
















