Sweet Memories (Second Update)

Romanoff pushed away her plate and let out a thoroughly unladylike burp of satisfaction. She kicked off her fuzzy slippers, narrowed her eyes, and whispered something to Salomon beside her. Then, as naturally as could be, she lay down across his lap and closed her eyes comfortably. She felt the newly grown, springy grass mischievously poking into her hair. She smelled the fragrance of grass and earth, while warm sunlight filtered through the leaves and cast hazy shadows over her eyelids. It was as though she were lying by a quiet stream on an afternoon meadow, her head resting on soft grass as a faintly warm breeze brushed her eyelashes and lulled her to sleep.

She could not help smiling. After receiving permission, she carefully opened her eyes.

What met her gaze was not a gloomy, casually furnished apartment or a plainly colored sofa, but a sparkling brook. She saw her bicycle lying on its side nearby, while the dark green leaves of a black walnut tree rustled overhead. Looking down, she saw herself in shorts, with a bandage still stuck to her knee. "Is this your memory?" the Arcanist asked softly. Romanoff had never found his voice so pleasing—not even the deep growl she felt beneath her palm against his chest when he brought her pleasure could compare to these gentle words, carrying the scent of sunshine. Everywhere her gaze reached, Salomon could see as well, for she had opened her mind to him without reservation so he could work his magic.

Yet what annoyed her was that Salomon still kept his own heart tightly closed. In his words, letting her in would only drive her mad, because there were things within him that ordinary people could not understand. That was the price of magic. Natasha would accept that