[She asked for a reason, because she didn't want to push him. She didn't want to ask him about anything that might be too uncomfortable or unpleasant. It was pretty clearly recent, albeit not too recent, enough to have healed, but still pink in places. She got to her feet moving so they were face to face, but nowhere near eye to eye, given he had most of a foot on her in height. But it gave her a better look at him, especially as she pushed herself up onto her toes with a faint hum. Trying to pretend that the idea that he'd had a literal building collapse on him didn't send a spike of nerves through her.
He was here, he was okay. Maybe she shouldn't be so attached; it was one conversation after intermittent visits when she'd been a child, objectively an entirely different person from who he was now. But she didn't have a lot of people, and he accepted her, was nice to her, easy to talk to without having to worry about how he'd react. And he didn't make her feel like no one saw her as anything other than a child, the way Coulson had, and even Steve did sometimes. Which was perhaps ironic, in that if anyone had a reason to see her as a child, it would have been Rumlow.]
I'm just glad you're alive. You're lucky, you know. Or maybe just stubborn. [Teasing a little, but it's not quite as overtly playful, just a slight twitch of her lips.] Did someone blow the foundation? Because those are burns, and not just from friction.
[She took him at face value, because she had no particular reason not to. And even if she found out later, Ava was a person who understood not telling people the whole truth. She hadn't told Steve the whole truth about who she was, hadn't told Peggy about what a mess SHIELD was. And that was without taking Natasha's view on truth and circumstances into account. The fact was that sometimes the reasons you didn't tell someone the truth weren't even about them.
She almost wants to touch them, because she's a tactile person even if she pretends otherwise, but for a moment she restrains herself. She's reminded of a saying, from the Red Room. Not from Ivan, but from her days before she'd been one of his special girls. Lessons from a Matron who was never kind, but she did not cause suffering for suffering's sake. Ava has a lot of feelings about scars, even if hers run deep, aren't so visible on the skin, they're still there, always will be. Natasha's imprints on her psyche, Alexei on her heart.]
Scars aren't about failing, you know. They're a reminder that you're stronger than whatever gave it to you. Even a building, in your case. So they're not.. ugly or shameful, or the way people look at them. [She knows he's probably gotten looks. They're obvious, and she can't imagine what it was like when they were new. Tentative, uncertain, she reaches up with one hand to trace the edge of the burns on the left side of his face, if he lets her. She watches him closely, and if he seems uncomfortable or shifts away, she'll stop before she even gets there. She's so very tactile, but with most people she doesn't initiate physical contact if she can help it.
There had been a few times she'd hugged Natasha, and it had been rather like hugging a door. So she was timid about it, always conscious of rejection, of not being allowed in other people's space, even if it added to the loneliness. Sana had been the first one to really make it okay. And everything is so easy with Rumlow, she's willing to risk it, even if she's still a little shy.]
Well. And you know what they say women think about scars. [A slight curve of her lips, adding just a slight touch of levity.]
no subject
He was here, he was okay. Maybe she shouldn't be so attached; it was one conversation after intermittent visits when she'd been a child, objectively an entirely different person from who he was now. But she didn't have a lot of people, and he accepted her, was nice to her, easy to talk to without having to worry about how he'd react. And he didn't make her feel like no one saw her as anything other than a child, the way Coulson had, and even Steve did sometimes. Which was perhaps ironic, in that if anyone had a reason to see her as a child, it would have been Rumlow.]
I'm just glad you're alive. You're lucky, you know. Or maybe just stubborn. [Teasing a little, but it's not quite as overtly playful, just a slight twitch of her lips.] Did someone blow the foundation? Because those are burns, and not just from friction.
[She took him at face value, because she had no particular reason not to. And even if she found out later, Ava was a person who understood not telling people the whole truth. She hadn't told Steve the whole truth about who she was, hadn't told Peggy about what a mess SHIELD was. And that was without taking Natasha's view on truth and circumstances into account. The fact was that sometimes the reasons you didn't tell someone the truth weren't even about them.
She almost wants to touch them, because she's a tactile person even if she pretends otherwise, but for a moment she restrains herself. She's reminded of a saying, from the Red Room. Not from Ivan, but from her days before she'd been one of his special girls. Lessons from a Matron who was never kind, but she did not cause suffering for suffering's sake. Ava has a lot of feelings about scars, even if hers run deep, aren't so visible on the skin, they're still there, always will be. Natasha's imprints on her psyche, Alexei on her heart.]
Scars aren't about failing, you know. They're a reminder that you're stronger than whatever gave it to you. Even a building, in your case. So they're not.. ugly or shameful, or the way people look at them. [She knows he's probably gotten looks. They're obvious, and she can't imagine what it was like when they were new. Tentative, uncertain, she reaches up with one hand to trace the edge of the burns on the left side of his face, if he lets her. She watches him closely, and if he seems uncomfortable or shifts away, she'll stop before she even gets there. She's so very tactile, but with most people she doesn't initiate physical contact if she can help it.
There had been a few times she'd hugged Natasha, and it had been rather like hugging a door. So she was timid about it, always conscious of rejection, of not being allowed in other people's space, even if it added to the loneliness. Sana had been the first one to really make it okay. And everything is so easy with Rumlow, she's willing to risk it, even if she's still a little shy.]
Well. And you know what they say women think about scars. [A slight curve of her lips, adding just a slight touch of levity.]