"I will, but we must go to my room first," Zarya replies as she begins gathering her things.
"W-Why do we have to go there?" you inquire, still a bit nervous about being in her cleavage.
"I must get new clothes," she answers while placing her weights back on the rack. "Also, Hana will probably be back for you soon. My room will make it harder for her to get you."
"O-okay," you murmur.
"Relax, Matryoshka. I will keep you safe."
Hearing Zarya promise this helps put you at ease rather quickly. The Russian doesn't seem like she'd ever intentionally hurt you, but her actually saying it quells any doubts you may have had.
"Okay," you repeat, this time much more calmly.
Giving you a nod, Zarya begins making her way to her room. As the two of you leave the gym, she begins to speak.
"You mentioned that Angela is having you do tests. Do you have more tomorrow?"
"Yep," you confirm. "I think Lena is gonna be helping out with it in the morning."
"Oh?" she hums curiously. "What are they looking to measure?"
"Smell and endurance. I have zero idea how they're going to test it though," you state with a shrug.
Zarya, meanwhile, has to resist the urge to laugh. She knows exactly what they're planning on doing. However, she'd rather not reveal it to you as it would ruin the fun.
"Sounds like you're quite the lab rat, Matryoshka," she smirks.
"Hey!" you protest indignantly. "I'm a research assistant. Not a lab rat."
"Of course you are," she coos teasingly, to which you merely pout in reply. "Here we are."
It takes a few moments to realize that you've arrived at Zarya's door. Not because it's unclear who the door belongs to, mind you. With a Russian flag draped over the top half and numerous photos of Zarya's weightlifting competitions, it's abundantly obvious who lives here.
Nonchalantly opening the door, she makes her way into the bedroom before reaching down to pluck you out from between her boobs.
"Welcome to my home, Matryoshka," she declares proudly as you take a look around from the palm of her hand.
Much like her door, Zarya's room screams Russian pride. Filled to the brim with posters from the Omnic War and numerous medals from her past victories, you can't think of anyone else who's this much of a poster-child for nationalism.
"Very.......Russian," you comment hesitantly, unable to find any other word that better sums up the aesthetic.
"Indeed," she grins with pride. "I'm glad you get it. The others gave weird looks when I first showed them."
Now that doesn't sound too surprising. While each member of Overwatch still had ties to their home countries, Zarya seems to have taken that to a whole new level.
"I can't imagine why," you state with fake surprise. Better to go along with it than anger someone who could snap you like a twig even if you were normal sized.
"It doesn't matter," she declares boldly. "When they can lift more than I can, then I'll care."
"So most likely never," you comment with a chuckle. It's hard not to find Zarya's boasting endearing as it's not malicious in any way. Rather, she just knows her strength and makes no attempt to hide it.
"Exactly," she chuckles before looking to you with a smile. "Someone at least understands."
With that, Zarya plants herself on her bed as she thinks of what the two of you should do next to pass the time.
What does she end up coming up with?
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