"I want," Natasha assured him. The gesture he made was almost charming, the pointed way he settled himself into the chair instead of next to her on the bed, and Natasha almost smiled as she settled herself comfortably onto the mattress. His way of making a point of it, she supposed, that he wasn't going to press her for things that she really wouldn't have found it out of line for him to have asked for, not at this juncture, and there was something - incredibly touching, in that. There was something touching about the fact that he'd be careful around it and that anyone would weight their actions out around her.
Respectful, maybe. Which wasn't something that she saw a lot of. Strange to get that from someone she didn't feel as though she'd really earned it from.
She brought her hand up to tug off the scarf covering her hair; little point in keeping it covered now that she was inside, and anyway, she felt better without it all bound up. Always had, given some of the ridiculous styles it had been yanked and tugged and sprayed up into over the years. It felt good to leave it loose and unadorned when she could, and she discarded the scarf somewhere on the mussed blankets beside her.
"I may have gone a little overboard," she admitted. Transporting food out of the Capitol, at least, that was easy enough. "There's bread, cheese, roast chicken - those cinnamon rolled chocolate truffles, those have been popping up at parties all over the place lately." Internally she rolled her eyes at herself: of course she'd brought something on trend instead of practical. "Some vegetables. Oatmeal, oranges - well. And there's a few tureens of this wild mushroom risotto." That was her favorite dish. She liked that, sometimes ordered it every night for a week straight.