i'm my own person ; @agentsxiii-blog - Tumblr Blog

Clint nodded slightly, then took a sip from the alleged coffee cup. “Probably is.” He leaned back in his chair, resting his chin on his hand, and looking towards Sharon. This was the first step to friendship one way or another.

agentsxiii-blog

Her lips twitch into a smile and then she’s letting out a soft laugh. “And yet you still drink from it. It’s okay, I can make another,” she says, and then proceeds to do so. “Sorry if your coffee is too sweet. I like mine with a lot of sugar.”

#convo;#c: clint;

kxtiik-deactivated20160622

To Be Human || Open

Natasha sits at the bar of a down town music club; perched on a stool with one leg crossed over the other. It’s one of life simple pleasures the redhead has learnt to take advantage of. To escape the none stop ride her life has become, and afford herself the chance to simply be human.

Her maroon dress hikes up to her thigh exposing a decent amount of perfect porcelain skin. Ordering another cocktail; an extra dry Martini, she lifts the glass to her lips and takes a sip. Blood red lipstick leaves a perfect imprint of full lips against the highly polished glass.

The cocktail stick is plucked from its glass, the olive pulled from it lingering on her tongue. Her gaze flicks through the dim light, and cigarette smoke. Bright green orbs scope out the room. Left to right and back again. People watching, with a morbid curiosity that has the corner of her mouth lifting in almost a sultry smile.

agentsxiii-blog

Sharon had friends. Old friends that still lived in New York that she still kept in contact with. So they brought her out, said she needed a night out or something. That she was too boring, always focused on her work. But Sharon likes her work, sometimes better than the people around her. But that’s besides the point.

Sipping on one of the drinks that her friend had gotten her, she doesn’t even remember what it is, really, she scans the place, before settling on a redhead that looks familar. Natasha Romanoff. She raises an eyebrow and then stands up, muttering an excuse to her friends and heads over to Natasha.

“You know, I never expected to see you in a place like this,” she comments, resting her drink on the bar and leaning against it, flashing the other woman a smile. “Come here often?”

#convo;#c: natasha;

capontherocks

PANIC || OPEN

Steve sunk down against the wall, the chest moving up and down rapidly, but breath not coming to him easily. It was another nightmare, the same one that had plagued him for a week straight. Once he found the strength to get to his feet, he stumbled over to the door, crashing it open with a series of noises that even he couldn’t distinguish, the groans from himself mixed with the cracking of the door off it’s hinges.The walk to the kitchen was a blur, but he was just thankful he got there in one piece. He steadied his breathing, but his hand had a slight tremor as he poured water into his glass.

He held his breath briefly a few times just to keep his chest from rising and falling like the oh so familiar Asthma attacks of his past. It wasn’t surprising in the least that he would exhibit symptoms like that after a flashback of that magnitude, coming to him while he was awake and now recently, in his sleep as well.

Finally losing what composure he had, the glass slipped through his fingers, glass shattering on the floor by his feet, the whole thing too much of a blur to actually comprehend.

“Damn it” He bent down to pick up the shards of glass–it was far too early to deal with this.

agentsxiii-blog

Sharon knew Steve usually got up at this hour. And she hasn’t been able to sleep, feeling restless lately. So she figured she might as well go over, see if he was up. She had stopped to get coffee, figuring that it was early enough, this prompted coffee. So she had two coffees in a holder, heading up the stairs to where she knew Steve was. She stopped at the door, but then froze, hearing noises that didn’t seem normal at all.

She puts the coffees down, and then she’s reaching for her gun, holding it up and slowly, opening the door and slipping inside. She doesn’t know what’s going on, but it didn’t sound good. And it’s better to be prepared.

She doesn’t expect to see just Steve there, picking up glass from the floor. She doubles checks around the room, but she knows that Steve wouldn’t just be there if it was just an intruder. So she relaxes, putting her gun away and stepping closer. “You need any help?” She asks, softly.

“And I would’ve knocked, but I heard crashing, you know, thought there was an intruder. I did bring coffee, but they’re outside on the ground. I can go get them and we can sit and talk about whatever’s bothering you?”