Natasha meets his gaze patiently as she watches him try to find a corresponding memory. There's maybe a hint of amusement there, an upward tick at the corner of her mouth. That expression is strangely familiar to her. That sense that he knows something is there if he can just turn over the right stone. A few times she'd woken him up after a mission, after his handlers wiped him, she'd seen that exact face as he began to recognize her.
It's why she can never be mad at him for forgetting her. She always surfaces again in the end.
His question doesn't surprise her, but her head tips a little, her eyes skimming his expression. She shifts back onto her back as he moves over her. It's an interesting response - maybe a little bit afraid. Maybe a little bit into it.
"Yes."
There's no point in lying to him about it. There never has been. "He was helping to butcher the women at the club. Dreykov sent me on that mission to prove that he could still make me vicious." A better person would have seen the club owners arrested and put away forever with the evidence they'd gathered. Every day, she tries to be a better person. For all the red in her ledger, from that night, what she regrets most is that she proved Dreykov right.
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It's why she can never be mad at him for forgetting her. She always surfaces again in the end.
His question doesn't surprise her, but her head tips a little, her eyes skimming his expression. She shifts back onto her back as he moves over her. It's an interesting response - maybe a little bit afraid. Maybe a little bit into it.
"Yes."
There's no point in lying to him about it. There never has been. "He was helping to butcher the women at the club. Dreykov sent me on that mission to prove that he could still make me vicious." A better person would have seen the club owners arrested and put away forever with the evidence they'd gathered. Every day, she tries to be a better person. For all the red in her ledger, from that night, what she regrets most is that she proved Dreykov right.