He’s here on business, or so he keeps telling himself. The truth of the matter; however, was that he was here for HER. &&. so he enters without a sound, it’s an act derived from habit. To walk in absolute silence, to inevitably keep the upper hand in stressful situations. It’s not something he means to do it now, and he KNOWS he should do something to rectify it—-to announce himself in some way, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he remains in that silence. Wades through the poorly lit office space until he’s seating himself directly at her flank. There’s a moment in which his gaze lifts to access her profile, before ultimately peering beyond, to that half-emptied bottle. Clint makes a point to nudge into her as he reaches for the bottle, and once he’s settled once more, he lifts the thing to his lips.
He’s here for her, but those words of comfort he assumes shes looking for remain unsaid. He’s said them before, and though he’s not above saying them AGAIN, but he’s well aware that those conversations, at least between them, never end well. But he knocks his head back, and downs the rest of the bottle. His weight settles against her a bit more as he glares down at the now empty bottle as if it had offended him. &&. There’s an annoyed grunt as he tosses it across the room with every intention of hitting the rubbish can only to MISS. The action in itself is a tell. He’s distracted, && not in a good way.
His shoulder meets hers ever so lightly—-and it’s his way of offering comfort on a hollow day.
Bobbi continued her distance; from her team, everyone. She’d felt the presence of another in the lab she worked in and knew it to be one of slightly calming influence. Though, her eyes looked over as she felt him upon her flank. taking her bottle from her side.
Her eyes watched as the archer’s hand gripped the bottle, she could sense his own guilt, his own sadness as he lifted the bottle away. Her hands however continued to fiddle with the experiment she was attempting to do. It was late, and the rest of the team were settling and enjoying time in the rec area; their laughter and talk of days workings filled the air, yet Bobbi, she just continued to work. The solace she attempted to find struggling to come to light.
That was when she noticed the bottle once more. This time it was flying through the air. But it missed the bin. Her features however saddened now softened. He was hurting too. swallow. A deep breath. Bobbi soon felt his shoulder against hers. Her hands dropped what she was doing and soon enough she found her head resting upon his shoulder.
“ It’s been eight years ---Why can I not forget it? ”
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