ava-bartcn:
“dad,” ava smirks all too proudly as she reassures him, “i’m just a little shit,” she chuckles a moment, focus going back to the arrow. his wish wasn’t far off, because ava’s face held a softness to it one would rarely see anymore. she’s relaxed, feeling a solid comfort with her father. and yes, her brown eyes held infinite curiosity here. the engineer itched to get her hands involved in something, and always had. so when he offers his hands, she readily accepts, moving closer and placing them in his. her smile stays, though she leans in closer, “i think you underestimate me.”
“not so little anymore.” hard to believe it wasn’t yesterday that ava had been learning how to walk, how to talk, how to be the little shit that she was so proudly calling herself, now. he’d spent her lifetime wishing for the days to just slow down. telling her that there would always be tomorrow for her to learn how to fight - wishing and hoping and praying that he would have just a little bit more time with her as a child, before the world forced her to grow up on him. it always would. taking her hands in his, gently, and turning them over and back, clint spent some time fake studying them before he relented - “tiny fingers, rough palms,” he couldn’t hide the pride, and he pressed a kiss to the calluses across her hands before he let them go, “they’ll do perfectly.”















