Feels Like Coming Home | +arrowsandradiation
Natasha’s only worried for herself when she finds herself leaning back into Clint, hands coming up to rest over his. Safety. Oh, she’s been chasing it for so long, and here it is. Right where it should never have been allowed to be.
She feels warm for the first time in months - she hadn’t realised how much she missed the sensation until he’s wrapped around her again.
It’s that realisation which forces her to pull away from him again, turning back around so that she can see him. She’s physically shaking, albeit gently, and her gaze is direct and pleading as she forces herself to look at Clint.
“They’ve decided I’m not fit for purpose,” she tells him. “They’ve taken me out of the game. A desk job - they might as well have thrown me to the wolves. I can’t be your partner, Clint, not like this. Not-“
Broken. She cuts herself off, forcing her head high. That night, the night they never spoke of, where they had plans to run off together - that happened to a different woman. She had been closer to whole than she’d been in a long time then, and she’s allowed herself to be broken again.
"They’ll be able to protect you.”
He looks at her and his gaze is gentle, caring. He cares about her, he does, there’s a love in him for this woman that he can’t put into words, and he’s not willing to give up now.
She pulls away from him, the short moment of her leaning back against him, her scent in his nose and the warmth just there — it’s gone again. It’s gone, leaving him with open arms, yet cold and wanting her close, needing her close. He sighs, watching her talk then, before he shakes his head gently.
“I’m not going to work with anyone other than you. I told you before that I’m willing to go if you do. If you want to run, I will. If you don’t, I’ll stay with you.”, he says quietly, his gaze on her, lingering on her face, not looking away for a second.
“I don’t need anyone else, Natasha. I need you.”
His voice is quiet as he steps a little closer, raising a hand out for her to take or not, leaving it up to her choice.
“If they say you’re not fit now, doesn’t mean you won’t be. Doesn’t mean I can’t help you. Doesn’t mean you have to push me away. I won’t let you. I missed you for too much and too long. I’m not willing to do that again.”
“It’s not your choice,” she tells him, and it’s harder than it should be to feign coldness. He’s so close, so unbearably close, and she could just reach out for him if she chose to. That’s how simple it would be.
She can’t though. They can’t open that can of worms again, no matter how like home he feels.
“I don’t need you here. I don’t need anyone else. Don’t you see that needing me makes you vulnerable? What you need has the power to hurt you.”
She looks down, letting herself collapse back on to the sofa. “Running was a child’s dream,” she says, expressionless.
arrowsandradiation reblogged this from inheritorofmemories and added:
When she’s burying her face in his shoulder, he thinks things are going to be okay, before he blinks, looking at her as...
inheritorofmemories reblogged this from arrowsandradiation and added:
Natasha steps forward, burying her face in his shoulder for just a moment before taking herself across the room. She...
carmy-w liked this