The room was silent except for the rain tapping against the windows.

Yelena sat at the kitchen counter, a half-empty water bottle filled with vodka beside her.

She hadn't touched much of it.

Mostly she just stared at it.

At nothing.

At everything.

Ever since Natasha's death, it felt like part of her was stuck somewhere she couldn't reach.

Some days she was angry.

Other days she drank until she forgot the pain.

Tonight was both.

You had found her sitting alone hours ago.

At first neither of you talked.

Then somehow the conversation turned into an argument.

It wasn't even clear how.

One minute you were asking if she'd slept recently.

The next she was glaring at you across the room.

"Stop asking me if I am okay."

"I'm trying to help."

"I do not need help."

"You clearly do."

The words slipped out before you could stop them.

Immediately, Yelena's expression hardened.

For a second she looked away.

Then she laughed.

A short, bitter sound.

"Of course."

You frowned.

"What does that mean?"

Yelena stood abruptly.

"It means everybody suddenly thinks they understand."

"I never said that."

"But you act like it."

Her voice was rising now.

Weeks of grief finally breaking through the cracks.

"You think because you sit with me and listen, you understand what this feels like?"

"Yelena—"

She cut you off immediately.

"No."

Her eyes were shining now.

Not onky with anger.

But with pain.

Raw, ugly pain.

"I lost her."

The words came out broken.

"I lost Sister."

Silence.

You didn't know what to say.

Yelena looked away, jaw clenched tightly.

Then finally she snapped.

"Ты не знаешь, что такое потеря." {You don't know what loss is.}

The words hit you like a punch.

The room suddenly felt smaller.

Quieter.

For a moment neither of you moved.

Yelena was breathing hard, still caught in her anger.

Still caught in her grief.

Then she noticed something.

You weren't arguing anymore.

You weren't speaking.

You weren't even looking at her.

Just staring at the floor.

Completely still.

The silence stretched.

Five seconds.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Something about it felt wrong.

Your shoulders had gone rigid.

Your expression empty.

Like somebody had switched something off.

Yelena frowned.

"...Y/N?"

Nothing.

You swallowed once.

Hard.

But still didn't answer.

The anger in Yelena's chest began to cool.

Slowly.

Replacing itself with confusion.

Then concern.

Because she knew you.

And she had never seen you look like that before.

Not upset.

Not angry.

Just...

Gone.

Like you'd disappeared somewhere inside your own head.

"Y/N."

Her voice was quieter now.

Still nothing.

You blinked.

Once.

Then looked away.

Avoiding her eyes completely.

The movement was small.

But Yelena noticed it.

And suddenly she wasn't thinking about the argument anymore.

Something had happened.

The sentence.

The one she'd thrown out without thinking.

It had hit something.

Something deeper than she understood.

"Hey."

No response.

Yelena took a cautious step closer.

The grief was still there.

The anger too.

But now there was something else.

Regret.

Because for the first time all night, she realized she might have said something she couldn't take back.

And the worst part?

She had no idea why.

The room fell silent again.

You still wouldn't look at her.

What happened to you...?