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The early light flowed through the curtains lazily, the dawn only halfway through beginning as the redhead came back from the far away places of her dreams, accepting reality back into her mind slowly as she blinked away the midnight fog. Her eyes searched the room in slight confusion until her remembered where she was, the warm body pressed against her front and draped over her arm holding her in place as the brunette whispered nonsense in her sleep, mumbling something in her native language. Wanda looked somehow different in the sun's starting rays, a cloak of peace spread across her being where there was usually only storms, hidden from most but still swirling around beneath the surface. Her beauty was plain to see in either light, never changing whether shadowed or shone upon, but this view was something Natasha especially treasured, the way her love looked when she wasn't weighted down by the world and her own demons, the magic she saw every time she looked at the witch.
She turned toward her sleeping heart, her arm not currently occupied moving long, wild hair so she could get at the pale shoulder hidden beneath, placing a single kiss there before laying her forehead against her lover's skin, closing her eyes and breathing in deep. Wanda always smelled like something wonderful, something earthy and grounded but not of this world, like a fruit ripened somewhere where the ugliness of war couldn't reach, a familiar and calming scent that reminded the older woman of this place, this home they had built among their friends.
Natasha often wondered what they honestly thought of them, the Witch and the Widow, the unlikely duo that found love amidst the chaos. She wondered if they could truly understand, the way the younger woman calls out to her, the way she had never felt whole, never felt fully accepted until she found herself in Wanda's arms that first night, this war-orphaned, angry young woman and this stolen child turned trained assassin somehow finding comfort in each other, their souls finding and filling all the holes their heavy lives had worn through. It was something she couldn't really explain, so she never really tried to, letting other people's versions of what they thought they were stand as truths because it was simply easier, the grand illusion of the women that looked and talked like them but were simply public faces, masks held in place by society's expectations. It was freeing and exhausting all at the same time.
She ran her fingers down Wanda's arm slowly, careful not break the calm as her hand found the taller woman's, smiling as she felt long fingers twitch slightly as they danced along red mist in her lover's dreams, no doubt moving mountains and changing worlds. She wondered what it was like inside that beautiful mind, wishing to step inside and keep her baby safe from all the bad days, to hold her close and kiss away the all too frequent nightmares. She wanted to save her love even if she sometimes felt like she could never save herself.
She sighed and pulled the other woman closer, burying her face in the curve of Wanda's neck as her body pressed closer against the one in front of her. She longed for days when they could stay this way, the want for something close to normal pulling at her heart and making her want to scream against the void. She wondered when their time would come, the time when they could simply be themselves, no masks, no Avengers, but it always seemed just out of reach, so, when would they simply tire of waiting?
She grumbled quietly to herself, freezing with her eyes wide as she realized her huff of annoyance had caused the witch to stir, soft words breathed in confusion as the younger woman's left hand grabbed for the redhead's that was placed upon her right, gripping the fingers tightly and pulling Natasha tighter around herself in her sleep.
The former assassin smiled, allowing the breath she didn't realize she was holding loose as she felt her tiredness reach out to her again, her eyes heavy as they placed one last look at the resting form before them, readying themselves to leave consciousness behind once more. The rest of the world and troubles would have to wait for when they slipped on their masks once more, but for now, Natasha was happy, and that was enough. These secret hours bringing comfort to her very soul and she wished to live them fully, the full hour at a time, unrushed and unburdened.
She closed her eyes and breathed her love in deep, filling herself with all the calm and peace these stolen moments gifted, and allowed herself to drift back to the universe of dreams, their promised tomorrows now one whole hour closer.