Natasha watches as he shifts his position. Her hands run up his forearms and she turns her head to kiss his palm before settling, her forehead leaning against his. There's nothing he can say that will absolve her of the guilt she feels for not finding him sooner. It's hers to carry, the same way she she carries the red in her ledger.

She considers his question for a moment, trying to study his expression from such a close angle. One hand lifts from his arm and comes around so she can curl her fingers gently in his hair at the back. "Our time in the Red Room was the only thing I had that was mine. It kept me going. So it was real for me. What do you think?"