Senses [Clint/Natasha]

Breakfast

She was standing there, making toast, and she was the prettiest person he ever saw. Her hair was up in messy ponytail; strands of hair encircled her face. She was wearing purple pajama pants, and a black tank top.

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked.

"Nothing...Just-you look really pretty right now," he responded.

She raised her eyebrows. "That's nice...but I will admit that, now, I look like a mess." She chuckled.

He shook his head. "Right now, you aren't trying to be pretty. You're just being yourself. And you are beautiful."

"Hm," she said, and went back to making breakfast. He watched her as she buttered the toast, buttering it with the precision she always had. She poured herself a glass of milk, then reached up to get a straw-they were on the top shelf-and her tank top slid up a bit, so he could see a sliver of her pale skin. On that small bit of skin was a cut. It was from that stupid mission, Clint remembered. That stupid mission where he couldn't find her. Thankfully, she was here now. And he would try his hardest not to let her go.

Author's note: Thank you to anyone who is reading this! This chapter is dedicated to wintercaptain. She is a great writer and an awesome friend, she is truly amazing! Go follow her and check out her works!