[on hold/paused] Clint Barton. An archer, expert marksman, fighter and shield agent, known as Hawkeye, falls in love with a scientist that he meets in a coffee shop.
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It was until later the next day when Clint Barton finally grew some balls and considered messaging Monica. He thought after receiving a very, very long and loud lecture from Natasha at work that day maybe he should shoot his shot.
The agent sat alone in his quiet apartment, staring blankly at his phone screen. A box of half-eaten pizza sat on the coffee table next to the couch he laid on. His fingers hovered over the keypad but didn't write. He was at a loss.
Clint groaned loudly as he dropped his phone on his chest. He ran his hands through his messy hair, thinking of what his next moves were. He wondered if Monica was even awake. Would she even see his message if his brain could figure out what to say? Would she even reply? Would she even consider going out with someone like him?
He picked up his phone once again and began to type;
'Hey, Monica. It's Clint from the coffee shop. Your friends gave me your number. I just wanted to ask-'
He paused suddenly. His eyes scanned over what he had just written. Shaking his head he quickly deleted the short message. It did look right. He felt it sounded... weird? No, wrong. Creepy. Now, he was back at square one again.
"Why is this so hard?" He mumbled aloud to himself. Turning off his phone, he placed it on the table next to his pizza, replacing the device with a slice of cheesy pizza. Taking a deep breath through his nose, Clint glanced outside his apartment window, watching a bird fly past before staring back at his phone.
"No, nope." He said, picking up the remote. Flicking on the tv Clint began to watch some random movie that was playing. As time passed by he felt his gaze move to his phone. Why was it so hard for him? He goes on deadly missions all the time and he can't find the words to send one text?
Clint stood from the couch, grabbing a beer from inside his fridge. As he walked back to his spot he picked up his phone from the table. As he took a long sip of his beer he turned on his phone.
"Ok, Barton. You can do this," he said, under his breath.
As he typed Clint released that he was just saying the same thing as last time, but he kept going. He just had to send something or the weight of his shoulders would never leave. He would have the thought rattling through his head for the rest of his life and then he would only see you in the coffee shop.
He stared down at his phone, letting out a heavy breath. 'Just do it, send it.' he thought. Without another thought, without trying to rethink everything he'd said, he sent it. He turned off his phone placing it down on the couch next to him.
He felt the weight shift off his shoulder, but that nervous feeling still rattled around in his head. Trying to keep his mind away from his phone, Clint continued to watch the movie that was playing. When that movie ended, he watched the next one. His pizza was eaten, his beer was empty, his eyes grew tired.
As Clint went to turn off the TV his phone screen lit up.
'Hi, Clint :)'
A/n - This chapter was published way later than I actually planned and I'm sorry to keep you guys waiting. My laptop gave up on me so I had to buy a new one. Also sorry that this chapter is very short😅 Anyway, I was going to post this on Jeremy's birthday so happy very belated birthday Jeremy Renner🥳
