I love you (Clintasha)✔️

✬♧8♧✬Battle scars

Clint was lying on the bed looking through a mission folder and he could hear the splashing of water from the bathroom where Natasha was showering.

Sometime later, he heard the water being turned off and the sliding door of the shower cubicle opening.

A few silent minutes passed before Clint heard a high-pitched scream from inside the bathroom.

At that, he flung the folder onto the bed and bolted towards the door.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?" He knocked a few times and placed his ear against the door to listen for Natasha's response.

"Clint! Come in here!" Natasha replied anxiously, her voice terror-stricken.

Clint carefully twisted the doorknob and opened the door, only to find Natasha hiding in a corner between the toilet bowl and wall wrapped in a towel. Her hands were held together nervously.

"What's wrong, babe?"

"There's a spider." Natasha began timidly and pointed to the bathroom mirror.

Clint chuckled at what the commotion was all about, and found his wife's terror actually quite amusing and adorable (he felt bad though but still).

"Don't worry, that little guy will be gone in no time." Clint assured Natasha as he went over to where she was and grabbed some toilet paper before returning to the mirror and getting rid of the spider.

Natasha watched as Clint flushed her worst nightmare down the toilet and sighed in relief.

Clint washed his hands and walked over to Natasha, gently taking hold of her arms.

"Everything's alright." He smiled warmly, and Natasha moved forward to hug him, her wet hair soaking up Clint's t-shirt but he didn't really mind.

Clint then left Natasha to change while he went back out to tidy up his mission folder and get ready for bed.

And when she came out of the bathroom, Clint's heart stopped for a moment.

She had to wear that shirt.

His mind wandered back to that one rainy night where this girl he was so in love with showed up at his doorstep soaked from head to toe. A cup of hot chocolate later and they were cuddled in bed whispering love confessions to one another.

And now here she was wearing that same purple t-shirt that ended halfway down her thighs he had lent her that night, looking absolutely adorable.

Natasha had refused to throw that t-shirt away when they were spring cleaning the other time, arguing that it embodied a fond memory from their high school days when Clint first confessed his love for her.

"What are you staring at?" Natasha said, plonking herself down on the bed next to Clint and running her fingers through her tangled curls.

"Sweetheart, why do you always have to make my heart go on roller coaster rides?" Clint sighed in mock exasperation.

"That's what I live for." Natasha smirked and pulled the covers over her legs.

But Clint acted faster.

He was on her in a moment, forehead pressed to hers and lips so close to one another they were breathing each other's air.

"Let's make a little Clint or a little Nat, shall we?"

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Sunlight streamed through the translucent day curtains the morning after, casting shadows on the two pairs of entangled feet protruding out from beneath the blanket.

Natasha stirred, and moved her head from where her cheek was pressed to
Clint's chest.

Emerald orbs peeked out from beneath her eyelids as she gingerly moved herself away from Clint, careful not to wake him, and propped her head up on her arms so she could get a full view of his face.

Clint was still fast asleep and didn't even stir when Natasha's finger grazed his lightly stubbled chin. She smiled at his peaceful sleeping face that seemed content with everything in the world.

Then Natasha gently ran a finger over the scar of Clint's stab wound on his torso, the ridge of uneven skin soft beneath her fingertip. Had he been sent to medical any later, he would have slipped through her fingers like a handful of sand, lost and carried away by the merciless wind. She was thankful he had made it, and leaned down to kiss the scar.

That was when Clint started to wake up, smiling down at her with her lips still pressed to his torso, a welcoming sight to wake up to.

"Our bodies are battlefields." Natasha commented casually but the statement hung in the still, sunshine-filled morning air.

"No, my love, these scars are badges of our battles won, our victories in life." Clint cradled her hand in his, gaze soft and loving upon her.

"And I'm glad to have won them by your side."

🌿⚓️🌸❁🌸❁🌸❁🌸❁🌸⚓️🌿
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Cute little chapter hehe(ʃƪ˘³˘)