[ As much as he'd love to get on his feet and do just that, he's stuck searching her face. Looks the same— identical, almost. Eyes are blue but those could be contacts, hair's red again. But.
It's the shape of her face. Slope of her nose. Little details that don't fit, don't match up to what he knows.
Eyebrows knit together, almost pained, and the name is half choked out from his throat: ]
no subject
It's the shape of her face. Slope of her nose. Little details that don't fit, don't match up to what he knows.
Eyebrows knit together, almost pained, and the name is half choked out from his throat: ]
Natasha?
[ Questioning her. ]