Work Text:
Maria watched their neighbors move in, a seemingly happy and complete family. Two kids, the other girl looks about her age and one younger. She observes from their front porch, wondering if she could try to be friends. Maria didn’t have many friends, the ones she’d make will almost always drop her because their parents didn’t want them hanging out with someone like her.
It was around morning when the new neighbors arrived. Meaning her father was blacked out drunk, giving Maria time by herself. It was always like that; if she wasn’t alone, it was cruelty in the hands of the person who’s supposed to offer love.
Socializing wasn’t Maria’s strong suit, so for a while, all she did was stare at the girl about her age figuring out how to approach them. Fortunately (or unfortunately?) the girl noticed her, and was the first to initiate the moment they finished unpacking.
The girl had really pretty green eyes, and seemed just as awkward as she was but was a little bit more confident than her. “Hi,” The girl says, “I’m Natasha.”
“I’m Maria.” She offers a small smile, unsure of what to do.
Natasha reaches a hand out for a shake, and Maria takes it. That summer ended up being Maria’s best summer.
____
Natasha and Maria lay on the grass under the warm sun together, catching their breaths after a game of tag. The brunette thinks, that this might be the happiest she’s been in her entire life.
“Do you prefer winter or summer?” Natasha asked.
Maria thinks for a moment, observing the clouds, “Do I also get to lie with you like this in the winter?”
The redhead hesitates for just a moment before plastering a grin and nodding, “Of course.”
Maria saw the uncertainty in her eyes, if it were anyone else she was sure it’d be unnoticeable. But when you grow up invisible, you start to see things other’s don’t. Still, if Natasha didn’t want to tell her why she felt that way then she wasn’t going to force her to.
“Then I don’t care what season it is.” She smiles.
____
“You should’ve been the one to die! You know that?” Her father’s yell scratches the inside of her ears as she lets him tear away at every inch of her.
Maria sobs, hiccuping her breaths, “So why don’t you just kill me then!?”
“You’re not even worth the effort! Just go fucking rot away somewhere.” He grabs her face tightly, enough to leave a mark of his finger prints. He lets go of her roughly, almost throwing her down.
The brunette sobs into her arm to stay as quiet as she can. “Got a sharp tongue there, don’t you?” He exhales, dropping his body down to the couch while he drags his hands from his face.
He aggressively takes the pillow closest to him and shoves it to the floor to release anger. Maria flinches— she flinches hard and he notices. Like a never ending joke, he hugs her crying for everything he did to her.
Maria couldn’t push him away and lock herself even if she did try. He was her father, and the least she could do after taking her own mother’s life was comfort him.
“I’m so sorry, Maria.” He cries on to her shoulder.
“It’s ok.” She mutters, hugging him.
____
The next day, when Natasha rides her bike around waiting for Maria, she doesn’t come. The younger girl’s gut immediately told her that something was wrong. Natasha never went to Maria’s despite being neighbors, Maria always went to Natasha’s. So, Natasha sucks it up and approaches the brunette’s front porch.
Before she could knock, Maria’s small voice tells her not to. “Don’t.” She almost warns.
“I was worried about you.” Natasha pulls a smile and runs to Maria.
“You don’t have to be.” She reassures through a thick lie.
Natasha immediately notices the finger prints engrained on Maria’s soft yet sharp face. She runs her calloused but gentle hand over them, “Really?”
As much as every inch of Maria told her to push the girl away, she couldn’t. All she could do was nod to keep her head held high, “Yeah.”
They got ice cream that day and ate sweets until their teeth were sore, Natasha invited Maria to go watch T.V. until their eyes went square, and stayed up late until their heads ached.
____
Maria learned that Natasha didn’t like talking about her home life very much. She had a lot of secrets. But she was Maria’s first and only friend, she couldn’t complain. They stayed friends for three years.
From the very beginning when Natasha’s hair was still long and soft to when it was cut short and dyed blue at the ends. Natasha was always going to be the prettiest girl Maria will ever meet no matter the way her hair looked.
“My dad says you look like a boy with that hair cut, but I don’t think you do.” Maria admits as they swing on the tire tied in front of Natasha’s house.
The girl with newly dyed ends grins, “I don’t mind. It’s more convenient to have short hair.”
“I cut my hair like that too once,” The brunette touches her own hair.
Natasha looks at her with intrigue, “I bet you were more handsome than him.”
Maria giggles at Natasha’s suggestion, “I think he preferred it when I looked like a boy.” She admits, “Said I looked less like my mom.”
Natasha just hums. After that, they spent hours doing different braids on Maria’s hair. The brunette thinks she’s never met anyone know that many hairstyles before. It was astonishing; that might’ve been the prettiest Maria ever felt.
Not because of the hair styles, but because Natasha gave her so much attention and care that Maria will then crave for the rest of her life.
____
One night, Maria climbs to the roof of her house. Before Natasha, that was where she always hung out. Alone with the stars and the cool of the summer air.
She sees Natasha’s family hurriedly flee the town as police soon followed. A flash of memory hits her; Natasha apologizing for her inevitable disappearance.
Yelena was younger than both of them, and Maria saw her confused and afraid face. Part of her wishes she knew what was going on to help; it didn’t matter right she’d risk her life or not.
That was the last time she’s caught wind of the girl who turned her dreadful nights to something youthful and beautiful.
Many unfulfilled promises were left when she did. Maria swore to remember those green eyes and find them again one day.