Tony let himself be tugged in, barely looked around the room as he followed her through it and then up the stairs to the spot she'd claimed as her own. He hadn't seen Natasha's apartment yet, but he knew her well enough that even if what she had was sparse, she'd be making the best of it in terms of space and design.
He'd meant to bring her something, he realized rather belatedly. He'd forgotten. It was only because he knew she'd hear nothing of it that he didn't apologize immediately. It wasn't like him, though. He'd been generous once. When he'd had places to spend money in order to be so, maybe.
Now he sort of felt like it was all take an no give where Natasha was concerned. It probably wasn't true, but he always seemed to be near her when he was at his lowest, even though she undoubtedly had troubles of her own to be dealing with.
"No, don't worry about food," he said, stopping in the middle of the room, pressing a hand over his eyes for a minute. "I didn't meant to just show up like this. I just. I know I said I would and --" And what? Well, he supposed they both knew what that and was. He needed someone who'd understand. Not that Steve didn't, but it was different.