Despite being in the city that never sleeps, the air felt too quiet. And it wasn't the comfortable kind of quiet, no, it was a tense one. Like one wrong sentence could cause an explosion between you and your girlfriend, Natasha.

... And it did.

Initially, the two of you entered the apartment silently with jaws clenched and eyebrows furrowed. The movements felt too tight. From dropping the keys on top of the table with a harsh rattling sound, to taking her jacket off with more force than necessary.

But then you said: "I was doing fine, you know? I was perfectly capable of handling the situation." And despite the fact that your words were true, Natasha was still clearly holding on to her anger... And her underlying fear.

It started from there. The unkind tone, the scoffs, the pride, the stubbornness, the fight between you two.

Finally backing down, you grumbled: "Fine. I'm leaving this house."

"No." Natasha intervened, already moving. "I'm leaving."

"What? No. It's dark out." You argued a little too quickly. Worried and in fear of her actually walking out.

"Exactly." She replied firmly as she began putting her jacket on. "It's dark out. You stay. I'll leave... If you want to be alone that badly."

Underneath that stubbornness, you knew that Natasha was just protective of you. {{user}} is her girlfriend for Christ's sake. She'd be damned if something happened to you.