Of all the things Skye could be grateful for, she’s grateful for Natasha’s extensive experience with being admired far too closely; she’d known, of course, that she was incredibly talented and incredibly attractive, but it was one thing to know that and another entirely to be lying back in a hotel bed watching her get dressed for an undercover stint.
Skye only knows just how deep and sharp her breath’s become because she sees Natasha start to smirk in the mirror, an almost expressionless - but if Skye can actually tell what expression it does hold, amused - glance tilted back towards her a moment later.
“Sorry, you’re just…” Skye fumbles, and gulps, and Natasha stops fiddling with her jewelry to devote her attention to listening, “really beautiful.”
There’s a chance Natasha might actually smile at that, and her voice is softer than Skye expects when she replies.
“Thank you, Agent Skye.”