Gasp!

🍒 @reyestr 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐃  ↪ 🐝  *  ―  𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑳𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑬. 

Send me 📏 (ruler) + your muses height and I'll compare them to mine!

Natasha's footsteps were quiet. Kira barely heard her walking trough the hallway, still, she didn't really bring herself to stand up and open the door. She knew it was her.

"мама..." The word mom is familiar, it hides a plea. Please look after me. Please be on my side, whether I'm right or wrong. " What are you doing here ?" she spoke up, with a hand over her eyes. The pain rising and crinkling into stars. There are bits of garbled conversation, Kira's own heaving breath. No blood that she can feel — but space, she needs space, to be away from other bodies, to be alone in her own blood-heavy, throbbing body. Slowly she takes her hand away from her left eye, and everything — Natasha, the apartment, the empty booze bottles that lay, scattered across the floor — slides, with a sick, liquid jerk, back into place.

< @reyestr continued:>

moving closer to the younger version of herself , the widow wrapped her arm around Kira​’s shoulders to pull her closer. “ i’ll be the one to protect you. “

How else do we return to ourselves, but fold the page so it points to the good part? To take a few steps back. For her whole life, Kira tried to prove that she is not only her mother's child. To stand out, a separate entity. But as years went by, Kira came to realize that she is her mother's doing. From the bridge of her nose to the way she hears her voice when she shouts.

But sometimes, Kira allowed herself to melt. All time ever does is pass, and all she ever does is remember. She is every age she has ever been and yet, she doesn't recognize herself in old pictures. At times she feels like her life both began - and ended - at twenty. And she still couldn't truly pinpoint which one was true.

@reyestr​ cont. from here

    He exhaled slowly through his nose, jaw tight as he listened to her voice escalate, maybe not yelling, but pushing on being edged there if she was further upset. He took another breath before he finally addressed the hard look she was directed towards him, leaning on the counter as he did. Her clenched fists didn’t escape notice but he wasn’t too worried. Knowing his wife, if she planned to hit him she would already have done so. Still, she was mad. Had she really expected some kind of favorable response to her announcement?

    “Is you in dis same as me? Cuz don’ seem t’recall ya sayin’ take it out from under wraps yet. Wouldn’ really f’get that. Sure ain’ had it knocked out m’head.”

     He scowled at her at the implication he could just 'show up if he wanted’. “Mhmm. Ya do remember me mentionin’ t’ief, non? Did ya f’get ya got some gov’ment ties, ‘n think Ah’m jus’ gonna waltz in widout invite? ‘N removin’ all dose factors, don’ wanna be goin’ where’m not wanted. You ain’ say you wanted it.” He hadn’t asked either. It hadn’t been the first mission, or the second, or the third, but it certainly was one of the longest. And he just…hadn’t felt like dealing with a conversation that would result in ‘i want space’ or ‘why do you want to invite yourself’, and he had felt that’s where it was leading up to.