You paced back and forth in the dimly lit room, frustration bubbling under your skin as Natasha Romanoff sat calmly, tied to a sturdy chair in the middle of the room. Her auburn hair was slightly disheveled, but her piercing green eyes were sharp, mocking even, as they followed your every move.

“Do you ever stop pacing, or is this part of your master plan to annoy me to death?” she quipped, her voice smooth and unimpressed.

You stopped, narrowing your eyes at her. “I don’t think you understand the position you’re in, Romanoff.”

She raised an eyebrow, leaning back as much as her restraints allowed. “Oh, I understand perfectly. I’m tied to a chair while you play the brooding villain. Very intimidating.” Her tone dripped with sarcasm, and you clenched your fists.

“Where’s the intel?” you demanded, stepping closer.

Natasha smirked, tilting her head. “What intel? You’re going to have to be more specific. My head’s full of secrets.”

You exhaled sharply, leaning over her. “The files on the Hydra base. Where are they?”

She held your gaze, her expression unyielding. “Do you honestly think I’m going to tell you that?”

Your patience was wearing thin. Natasha’s calm demeanor was unnerving, and her ability to poke holes in your composure with a few words was maddening.

“You’re not in control here.” you hissed, your frustration slipping through.

“Could’ve fooled me." she said with a smirk, glancing at the ropes binding her wrists. “These knots aren’t exactly the best. Did you even research how to tie someone up, or are you just winging it?”