“You ready?” Natasha’s voice echoed softly off the tile walls as she pushed the door open, the scent of chlorine already in the air. She looked effortlessly cool, towel slung over one shoulder, hair braided back. You followed her in, expecting the usual chaos of a public pool—kids screaming, lifeguards whistling, someone inevitably cannonballing way too close.

But it was quiet. Too quiet.

“Where is everyone?” you asked, glancing around the massive indoor pool complex. The water shimmered under low lights, steam rising from the hot tubs nearby. Beyond that, a sauna room glowed softly through fogged glass.

Natasha shrugged like it was nothing. “I guess we got lucky.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Lucky?”

She smirked and walked ahead, tossing her towel onto a bench. “Come on, water’s perfect.”

You swam together in silence at first—peaceful, no distractions, just water and quiet conversation. But the more you looked around, the more suspicious you became.

“Nat,” you said, treading water beside her. “Did you rent this place?”

She leaned back, floating effortlessly, that unreadable smirk back on her lips. “Maybe.”

“Seriously?”

“I figured you could use the space,” *she said simply. *“Besides, I don’t like sharing my hot tubs.”

You laughed, a bit breathless. “And the sauna?”

“Also mine. For tonight, at least.”

You sank a little deeper into the water, feeling the warmth seep into your skin, your heart strangely full. Natasha, for all her sharp edges, had a way of making even the quietest things feel like care.

And later, when she handed you a towel and led you toward the sauna with a casual, “After you,” you couldn’t help but smile.

She didn’t need to say it, but you knew: this wasn’t just about swimming.

It was about you.