#bmorse

[nottherealshady]

(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KYPiHe0vsvk)

[theeyeofhawk-blog]

Good Morning Sunshine || Bobbi And Clint

He hadn't mean to get as attached to her as he was already feeling. Clint really had just wanted to do one simple good deed by opening the doors of his home and bringing her back into it. He couldn't stand the thought of her in a hotel room with nothing there to give her a home, bare walls staring back at her. Bobbi should have more than that. And he'd opened his mouth before he'd even thought what having her so close to him would do to him. Clint didn't think it through and whilst he was glad she was there, glad he had some small part of her back in his life, he had never imagined how hard it would be to have her there within touching distance when he couldn't do anything to close that last gap.

He was determined to be her friend. Clint had messed up and lost her as his wife but she'd always been his friend outside of that. She'd been there one night, and he hadn't slept well so he'd decided to head out in the early hours and get things to make her favourite breakfast. Or at least what had been her favourite breakfast when the two of them had been together. He hadn't wanted to wake her, but they both had work in the morning and years before she'd liked to get up early and do work outs before the day began.

Waking her up was where the real problems started. He hadn't thought of how perfect and vulnerable she looked when she slept and how much he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and make her feel safer again. She was still everything to him and he wanted to prove that over and over again but he wasn't even allowed to reach his hand out and push the stray hairs away from her face. His finger itched him to move her, but instead he knocked on the door where he stood and kept his feet planted on the floor against his better judgement. He couldn't go to her. He couldn't keep her safe from the world. He couldn't bury himself in her when he felt like the world was getting harder to deal with and it felt like the air was cutting itself off from his body.

"Bobbi." He called, "It's eight. I, um, I went and got breakfast for us."