Part 4: A Whisper in Red
Location: Avengers Compound Rooftop, Sunset
The wind was soft. Cool.
Riven stood near the edge of the rooftop, arms resting on the metal railing, staring out across the compound. The sunset threw long orange shadows across the trees beyond the walls. For a few minutes, everything felt quiet.
Then the door behind him opened with a soft creak.
He didn't look.
"Didn't think you were the rooftop brooding type," Natasha said, her boots tapping lightly as she approached.
Riven exhaled through his nose. "Didn't know there were types."
She came up beside him, folded her arms on the rail. They stood in silence.
After a moment, she said, "I was trained to be a weapon. Since I was a child. I thought I knew pain. Purpose. Control."
Riven didn't speak.
"But I chose it," she continued. "You didn't."
He looked down at his hands. The veins in his forearms still throbbed faintly from the gym.
"Did you ever stop being angry?" he asked.
Natasha shook her head once. "No. I just got better at aiming it."
Riven gave a quiet, bitter laugh. "What if it doesn't want to be aimed? What if it just wants to burn everything?"
She turned to him fully, expression neutral but not cold. "Then you hold it until it doesn't."
He met her eyes for the first time. There was no pity there. Just understanding.
The sun dipped lower, and the shadows stretched longer.