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Maria knows that Natasha trusts her. She knows it in the way Natasha will seek her out instead of a doctor. She knows it when Nat casually brushes their fingers together, when she rests her head in Maria’s lap, and when she kisses her so softly, so tenderly, that Maria can’t help but melt. Maria knows it when she realizes they understand more about each other than she ever has about a single person.
Neither of them trusts easily, not in any definition of the word. They don’t trust deeply either—it’s not in their DNA.
So they never verbalize it to each other. They say other things, like “I love you” and “come home safe to me,” but trust is somehow more sacred, more valuable than love, even.
Saying the words out loud would cheapen them.
They’re almost a year into their relationship when Maria realizes how deeply Natasha trusts her.
It’s early, too early, if the grey pre-dawn light filtering through the window is any indication. Still, Maria blinks awake. Old habits die hard and all that. There’s a soft weight pressing on her chest and wrapping around her torso. It’s Natasha, fast asleep with her mouth stuck open and an arm draped languidly over Maria. It’s the least graceful she’s ever been, but Maria thinks she’s never looked more beautiful.
Restless, Maria endeavors to get up. Running her fingers through Natasha’s hair with one hand, she gently nudges her arm with the other. Natasha doesn’t react.
Well, this is going to be harder than she thought. Maria shimmies as gently as she can, trying not to wake Nat. It takes a while: every time Maria wiggles she listens for a change in breathing that would indicate Natasha waking.
Somehow, she makes it out of her bed and to the en-suite without incident. She reaches for her toothbrush, eyes still unfocused, and accidentally knocks over the cup with a loud “ clink !”
Uh oh.
Maria pokes her head into the bedroom, an apology on her lips, but she stops. And stares. Natasha is still sound asleep in the position Maria left her in.
As she continues her morning routine, Maria can’t help but think. Natasha has never been a heavy sleeper. She wakes at the slightest disturbance. But somehow, Natasha is still dead asleep even after all of Maria’s disturbances. Why?
Affection blooms in Maria’s heart as she answers her own question. Trust. The word blossoms in her brain, echoing through her heart and vibrating in every molecule of her being. Natasha trusts her. On the deepest level anyone possibly could. Trusts Maria enough to be at her most vulnerable around her. Trusts that Maria is safe—that Maria will keep her safe.
Even though she’s ready for the day, Maria slips back into bed after this revelation. Natasha’s body immediately seeks hers, burrowing into her warmth. Sighing contentedly, Maria kisses Natasha’s head and closes her eyes.
If Natasha is still sleeping, she may as well rest, too.