It is not Natasha's first time, either in her dreams or in reality, she she's confident, kissing Evie until she kisses back, then melting under the kiss, drawing her deeper. One hand cups Evie's cheek, guiding her into a soft, lingering kiss, drawing it out a long moment before she sits back breathlessly. Her chest rises and falls quickly above her corset—it's cliche, and feels a little silly even in the dream.

Does she even have to breathe?