Hearing all of that, Natasha jerked to a halt, staring at Bucky with wide, surprised eyes. "...the advice?" Shocked, and a little hurt, she very nearly fell into a tirade of incredulous anger, but swallowed it back just in time. For it to be replaced with a cold, stony expression, that settled like concrete over her features.

"I appreciate it," she finally replied, white around the lips. So angry she could hardly keep from trembling, Natasha just clenched her fists, thankfully hidden by the long sleeves of her windbreaker, and forced a completely fake smile, cold as frozen bones. "But I don't think you'll have to worry about me anymore, Mr. Barnes. I've abused your hospitality for long enough. And while I can't thank you enough for your...kindness, I can get out of your hair quickly and let you...get back to work."

Or whatever the fuck he was doing, locked in his studio for days on end.