"I love you."
Natasha can't say the words as easily as Clint can.
She's told him once, after he had admitted his feelings to her, and she had panicked and flown off the handle at him, and thought she'd lost him forever. After she realized what she really felt for him, she'd tracked him down and poured out her heart, and she had told him then, "I love you."
And she knows what she feels for him. How he makes her feel warm all over when he's near her. How he makes her heart pound when she catches a glimpse of his face, when he touches her skin. He makes her feel safe, secure... stable. And she knows that she loves him.
It's just hard to say it.
Clint never misses an opportunity to tell her. In the morning when she blinks her eyes open, she sees his face, smiling at her, and she smiles back.
"I love you," he says.
"I know." she responds.
Before they split up on missions, heading in separate directions, Clint grips her arm and pulls her close, looking into her eyes. "I love you," he tells her. He says it firmly, like he might never get another chance to tell her again.
"I know," she says, squeezing his arm before she turns and runs her own way, weapon drawn.
When they're intimate, he looks up at her, breathless, and says, "I love you."
She responds just as breathlessly, "I know."
At night, before they go to bed, Clint wraps his arms around her and whispers into her ear, making her feel warm all over, "I love you, Natasha."
She turns and kisses him deeply before saying "I know."
One night after this routine, when Clint has fallen sound asleep with his arms wrapped around her, Natasha lays awake, thinking.
"Why is it so hard to say those words?" she whispers to herself.
She's not afraid of the commitment, the attachment. Both of them had fought against the attraction for so long. She's not afraid to let herself love him. She's not afraid of losing him, because she's determined that she'll never let that happen.
She lays in the dark, feeling his deep, even breathing against her spine.
"Am I just afraid to say the words?" she wonders.
Love. It was a powerful word.
It scared her.
The feelings she had for him, they were wonderful, and new, and made her feel like she never had before. But they scared her. She had never, ever thought she would.. could.. love someone as much as she loved him. She had never let herself love someone like this.
She wasn't afraid to love him. She was just afraid to tell him, as fervently as he told her. And she knew that she needed to tell him. He needed to hear the words. Oh, how she loved hearing him say them to her!
She didn't want him to doubt that she loved him, because she never said it.
She spoke out loud, softly, into the dark. "I... I love you, Clint."
Clint never stirred.
"In the morning then.. First thing. I am going to tell him before he tells me." She vows to herself. And the thought makes her cheeks flush a little bit and makes her feel warm all over before she falls asleep.
__________________________________________________________________
But in the morning,he's already gone down to the cafeteria for breakfast.
"Which is odd", Natasha mumbles to herself as she pulls a white shirt down over her head. Clint usually waits for her, or they tell the other one that they're headed down. They always sit at one of the end tables, which arent' as heavily populated. They never act romantic in front of other SHIELD members, though there are several that suspect something between them. It's not unusual for partners to sit together.
"Maybe he's upset with me.." Natasha panics a little as she pulls on her black jeans. She thinks back to last night, when he'd told her "I love you" before bed. "I know," she'd said, like she always does, and she had seen something flicker, briefly on his face, but she'd dismissed it. But now she pauses, mid -sock.
"He thinks that I don't love him... because I never say it.." she breathes softly.
She's going to fix that right now.
She fluffs her hair one more time, then pulls on a navy blue cardigan and leaves Clint's apartments. She flies down the halls to the elevators, suddenly worried that she might miss him.
But when she arrives in the cafeteria, she doesn't see him at any of their usual tables. She frantically looks over the room, and finally spots him, at the very center table, dressed in a black turtleneck, surrounded by other SHIELD agents. Her palms suddenly feel sweaty.
"Breakfast..." she thinks to herself, and makes her way through the line, looking over her shoulder every so often to see if Clint has noticed her. He doesn't make any sign that he does. She selects a few sausage links and a cup of coffee with cream and sugar, then makes her way to that center table. The table is packed, but there just happens to be, miraculously, an empty seat on Clint's left side.
A few other agents look up at her curiously, and she gives them a small smile as she sits down, right beside Clint. If she were any closer, she'd be in his lap. Clint gives her a nod of greeting, and continues to eat a bowl of oatmeal and berries.
Natasha just sits there. He doesn't even turn to look at her. She opens her mouth, then closes it. She takes a swallow of coffee. It's too hot, and burns her tongue. She wipes her palms on her pants.
"You have to tell him. You've disappointed him." she tells herself.
Around them, the bustling table is filled with chatting agents, and the buzz of conversation is loud enough to cover her words. She leans close to his ear.
"Clint... I.." she swallows again before saying softly, " I love you."
He turns just slightly to look at her. "I'm sorry, Tasha. I couldn't hear you. Say that again, a little louder?"
She gapes at him, incredulous that he hadn't heard her, but then realized that she was speaking into his left ear, and he was a little hard of hearing in that ear. Accident from long ago. She takes another deep breath and leans closer.
"I said, I love you..." she says it just slightly louder, but her words are lost in a chorus of laughter from down the table.
"Sorry, Tasha. You're really going to have to speak up." Clint shrugs and goes back to scraping oatmeal from the bottom of the bowl.
Now she's frustrated, and flustered, and she feels like if he doesn't hear her words now, she's going to burst for not telling him.
''I LOVE YOU, CLINT BARTON!"
The words come out just below a shout, but loud enough that everyone at the table stops talking and eating and looks at her in awe.
Natasha suddenly realizes what she's just done, and she feels herself burning crimson.
And then Clint turns to look at her, and smiles. "I know..." he says, with that silly, goofy grin she's come to love. "I knew it all along."
-THE END!-
