You are a machine. No one can hurt the hammer. How long have you been telling yourself that? That look of pure ice in her eyes, the way her jaw was taunt and ready to spew whatever lies necessary. They didn’t call her a prodigy for nothing. He winced visibly as she spat venom; anything to get him away. Anything including using his own foolish words against him. But if there was one thing he knew about Anna, was that she was far more soft and kind that she tried to portray herself as. He hated her. He hated her because she pretended to not be human. “And I’m a nobody, right?” he spat with just as much venom as she. “A fucking orphan without a home? Is that what you want to say? Is that what you want to hear? God fucking damn it, Anna! Get your head out of what they are telling you! Stop it! Stop being a fucking martyr! Stop trying to hold the burden by yourself because whether you liked it or not, you stopped being alone the moment Charlotte came into both of our lives. You stopped being alone and you stopped being perfect the moment you stopped caring about the mission! Do you want me to say it?! I was wrong! I was fucking wrong when I got angry at you! But at least I don’t go around pretending that I’m not hurt! Like I don’t have a bleeding wound. You are ignorant to your own pain or how much you can stand. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’ve always been here.”
And, just like that, her eyes aren’t anymore. Oh, no, they’re hot, they’re are burning with rage, and anger, and a fire that continues to grow and reach every inch of her body. She takes yet another step closer, a smirk on her lips and she moves her head from one side to the other. “You wanna know what I want to say, Dimitri? You wanna fucking know? I don’t give a shit if you’re a fucking orphan. Boo-fucking-hoo. You were still given so much more than any of us. Do you think we didn’t know? About your uncle? About your privileges? Cry me a fucking river about your parents being dead. Everybody loses people.” Cruelty spills from her lips, fingers curling into fists and knuckles going white. She looks at him, lower lip trembling ever so lightly (she’s not about to cry. It’s something else. It’s an attempt at control.) “I don’t want you to say you were wrong. I want you to admit it. Admit that you meant it. Admit that in the back of your head that’s what you always saw me as. Admit that you could never trust me completely. Admit that to you I’d always be the fucking Black Widow, the fucking prodigy, the god damn legend before I could ever be Anna.” She takes in a deep breath, taking a few steps back before laughing under her breath. “What I want to say, Hammer, is that I think you’re weak.”