I love you (Clintasha)✔️

✬♧17♧✬ Barely breathing

Clint stumbled into the empty house and deposited the plastic bag onto the coffee table with a loud crash.

He flopped down onto the couch, his hand over his face.

Then, feeling uncomfortable in the tingling silence, he sat up and turned on the radio.

Grabbing a beer can from the plastic bag, he flicked it open and took a gulp.

I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing.

Clint took another gulp and let the cool liquid run down his throat, hoping it would take away his sorrow.

Cause when a heart breaks no it don't break even.

Finishing the first can, Clint crushed it with his bare hands and flung it across the room. It landed in front of the door.

He felt that his cheeks were warm...and wet. He roughly ran his wrist over his eyes and dug out another can of beer from the bag.

What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you.

Memories paraded through his mind, each one clearer than the previous.

He remembered how they fooled around with their milk mustaches that morning.

He remembered working together at the pizza place, sprinkling flour on each other and chasing each other round the table.

He remembered their sleepover and how he had dumped all the stuffed toys on her, how he had hugged her to sleep.

He remembered watching the sunset together, twice. The second time she drew a picture of them in the sand and placed his hand over her heart. Clint could still remember the beat of her heart under his palm.

He remembered how she treated his injuries, with so much tender loving care.

He remembered her hugging him and crying when she thought he was going to die.

He remembered his proposal to her and his promises - each and every one.

He remembered their wedding and honeymoon.

He remembered every little thing she did, every little thing she said.

I'm falling to pieces, yeah, I'm falling to pieces.

Clint was choking on his tears. The more he cried, the more he drank. The more he drank, the more he cried.

They say bad things happen for a reason.

But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding.

Cause she's moved on while I'm still grieving.

And when a heart breaks no it don't break even, even, no.

The doorknob turned and the door was gingerly pushed open. By then, Clint was wasted, he had already finished five cans of beer.

The empty can in his hand, he threw at the door, almost hitting the person just entering.

She carefully stepped around the cans littered at the doorway and made her way towards the couch.

Clint, in his stupor, was fumbling around the bag for another can of beer.

"Clint, that's enough." She gripped onto his wrist and brought his hand away.

"Go away! Leave me alone!" He slurred.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?! She's not worth it!" Bobbi scolded.

Clint laughed humorlessly. The last time he heard that was when he was waiting for Natasha to wake up from her coma and Laura had told him she wasn't worth it.

"You don't know anything." He wrung his wrist out of her grip and grabbed another can of beer.

"Oh yeah? All I know is that she left you for some other guy. No matter how much you wallow in self pity, she's not gonna come back!" Bobbi flared, sick and tired of Clint wasting his life away for something that won't change.

"SHE'S MY WIFE FOR GOODNESS SAKE!" He bellowed, standing up from the couch. All the commotion seemed to have sobered him up.

"And it's not her fault she can't remember me! So don't you slander her in any way!" He defended, red faced and almost out of breath from all the shouting.

"You just don't understand, do you?!" Bobbi retaliated, arms flailing.

"No, you don't understand." Clint said austerely, then turning away from her, "You don't understand how much I love her."

Bobbi took a deep breath and calmed down. She saw no point arguing further.

"I've been sent here by Fury's orders. You better get your sorry ass back in shape or I'll let Fury deal with you himself." With that she stormed out the door.

Clint glared as the door closed before walking up the steps to the bedroom. He passed by Lucky hiding by the corner, looking at him with puppy eyes. Lucky seemed frightened by all the shouting that just took place.

Clint flashed a lopsided smile and crouched down to scratch Lucky's head.

"I'm sorry, buddy." He said softly, sadly as he patted Lucky's head.

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