Reaching under the table to replace her shoe on her foot, Natasha looked up when the waiter stopped and lingered at their table, clearly not just there to be asked for the bill. Straightening back up in her chair she took note of the drink on his tray before looking over at Clint for explanation. Luckily the waiter gave one as Clint looked like he would just end up sputtering if he tried to talk.
Normally she would have accepted, and for a brief second she almost did; for a brief second she forgot that there was a reason that she couldn’t. Then she remembered.
“[Thank you but I can’t],” she replied in Italian. When the waiter smiled and tried to charm her into it she knew she had to explain why but it was hard to get the words out. “[My date will gladly take one, but I...]” she could say it, it was easy, just two words, but saying them aloud to someone other than Clint felt terrifying. “[I’m pregnant, I can’t.]”
And there it was. It was out there, and although it was stupid and superstitious she wished she could take it back instantly. Don’t tell anyone before the first trimester, she had broken the rule.
no subject
Normally she would have accepted, and for a brief second she almost did; for a brief second she forgot that there was a reason that she couldn’t. Then she remembered.
“[Thank you but I can’t],” she replied in Italian. When the waiter smiled and tried to charm her into it she knew she had to explain why but it was hard to get the words out. “[My date will gladly take one, but I...]” she could say it, it was easy, just two words, but saying them aloud to someone other than Clint felt terrifying. “[I’m pregnant, I can’t.]”
And there it was. It was out there, and although it was stupid and superstitious she wished she could take it back instantly. Don’t tell anyone before the first trimester, she had broken the rule.