（ yelena can't possibly have thought that natasha would answer her honestly — how often has she ever been honest about anything? but she does lean in and bump her shoulder against her sister's, playfully. ）
You look good.
（ her voice doesn't choke. doesn't catch on those words, doesn't hang up in the awkward negative space between them. natasha looks at the sister she lost for, if she's being honest, a lot longer than five years and she says you look good like they just saw each other three days ago at a fashion show in milan. as if she doesn't remember frantic weeks turning into desperate months, contacts with other widows all the way on down the line until she found sonya, who told her the truth of what she'd already known then in her heart.
she leans over and takes a sip of her own of yelena's drink. the tapioca pearls clog the straw. tiny little human annoyances, like stubbing your pinky toe on a chair. ）
no subject
（ yelena can't possibly have thought that natasha would answer her honestly — how often has she ever been honest about anything? but she does lean in and bump her shoulder against her sister's, playfully. ）
You look good.
（ her voice doesn't choke. doesn't catch on those words, doesn't hang up in the awkward negative space between them. natasha looks at the sister she lost for, if she's being honest, a lot longer than five years and she says you look good like they just saw each other three days ago at a fashion show in milan. as if she doesn't remember frantic weeks turning into desperate months, contacts with other widows all the way on down the line until she found sonya, who told her the truth of what she'd already known then in her heart.
she leans over and takes a sip of her own of yelena's drink. the tapioca pearls clog the straw. tiny little human annoyances, like stubbing your pinky toe on a chair. ）