Senses [Clint/Natasha]

Apart

The storm had stopped, and Natasha went outside. It smelled distinctly like the aftermath of a storm. Maybe to some people it smelled good, but it just smelled sad to Natasha. She shivered, it was a cold autumn. Her shoulders shook with shivers, or maybe they were shaking with unshed tears. She couldn't tell. She might have been crying even. She wasn't sure. She just wanted him right then, just him and nothing else. If he was there the smell of sadness would instead be the smell of calm. 

It smelled so lonely. It smelled like her absence, and he hated it. She wasn't that far away. If he wasn't on this stupid mission, he could have reached her within the hour. If she was here she'd be holding his hand. She'd be resting her head lightly on his shoulder. But she wasn't. He couldn't stop thinking about the place where she would have been.

"Natasha?" Steve's voice wafted over to her as he made his way outside. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just thinking." She was an expert liar.

"Agent Barton? Shouldn't we be moving in on the enemy?" Agent Johnson asked. 

"Yeah, I'm just thinking." Thinking of her.

Author's note: I actually like this chapter, so that's a good thing. Thanks so much for voting and commenting!