Natasha Romanoff (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iwasrussian) wrote2014-08-12 09:36 pm
iwasrussian) wrote2014-08-12 09:36 pm
Drabble
Little girls have big dreams.
She was smaller than the others her age, enough so that she drew their attention right from the very beginning. Only, that wasn't all that stuck out about the young girl when looking them all over, no. Among all the dark brown, blonde and black haired girls, it was the short one, second to the end with the flaming red hair that had the men captivated. Not just by appearance, but because she showed promise.
As the group scattered to do their exercises, Natalia retreated to the corner with full intentions of doing what the others were doing. But, as soon as she got there, big green eyes wandered; watching as each of them followed through step by step what the learned the day before.
So, she proceeding to do the same. Step, punch, kick, sweep, kick. Lunge, punch, kick, turn..
"Natalia?" The voice said, approaching from the middle of the gymnasium and causing her to abruptly stop and look up. "What are you doing?"
The young girl's face fell and she attempted to continue her moves, but was halted by a strong hand on her arm.
"I asked you a question."
Eyes followed him down as he crouched in front of her. He had a friendly face, but there was something in his eyes that was terrifying to her. Granted, most of the trainers were, but this one one had a depth in his eyes that scared her. And she wasn't sure why.
"I was turning around." she answered promptly, long lashes blinking furiously to give away that she was only half telling the truth. She swallowed and continued, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. "Like a ballerina."
He smiled; a smile that was neither friendly, or menacing. It was.. unpredictable. "Is that what you want to be, Natalia?" he asked her in Russian. "A ballerina?"
Pausing, vibrant green eyes met blue, and she hesitated only once before shaking her head from side to side.
"No? Why not?"
Natalia's face dropped to look down at her feet, and it wasn't long before it was lifted again by her chin to look at him. "Because I don't want to be one." It was a better answer to give than the truth that those at the Red Room drilled into their innocent minds. She knew that moves like those would get her killed.
"That's good." he replied, and leaned into her ear. "But, you would have made a beautiful one."
She was smaller than the others her age, enough so that she drew their attention right from the very beginning. Only, that wasn't all that stuck out about the young girl when looking them all over, no. Among all the dark brown, blonde and black haired girls, it was the short one, second to the end with the flaming red hair that had the men captivated. Not just by appearance, but because she showed promise.
As the group scattered to do their exercises, Natalia retreated to the corner with full intentions of doing what the others were doing. But, as soon as she got there, big green eyes wandered; watching as each of them followed through step by step what the learned the day before.
So, she proceeding to do the same. Step, punch, kick, sweep, kick. Lunge, punch, kick, turn..
"Natalia?" The voice said, approaching from the middle of the gymnasium and causing her to abruptly stop and look up. "What are you doing?"
The young girl's face fell and she attempted to continue her moves, but was halted by a strong hand on her arm.
"I asked you a question."
Eyes followed him down as he crouched in front of her. He had a friendly face, but there was something in his eyes that was terrifying to her. Granted, most of the trainers were, but this one one had a depth in his eyes that scared her. And she wasn't sure why.
"I was turning around." she answered promptly, long lashes blinking furiously to give away that she was only half telling the truth. She swallowed and continued, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. "Like a ballerina."
He smiled; a smile that was neither friendly, or menacing. It was.. unpredictable. "Is that what you want to be, Natalia?" he asked her in Russian. "A ballerina?"
Pausing, vibrant green eyes met blue, and she hesitated only once before shaking her head from side to side.
"No? Why not?"
Natalia's face dropped to look down at her feet, and it wasn't long before it was lifted again by her chin to look at him. "Because I don't want to be one." It was a better answer to give than the truth that those at the Red Room drilled into their innocent minds. She knew that moves like those would get her killed.
"That's good." he replied, and leaned into her ear. "But, you would have made a beautiful one."