feathered-assassin
She’s biting her lip, trying to choke down her tears and her emotions. He knows she hates when shes seen like this. By anyone. Let alone him.
“Hey. You don’t have to hide that from me. You don’t have to bottle it all up all the time. S’not healthy.”
He wants to hug her, try to make her feel safe with him. But he knows sometimes this only makes things worse so he stands beside her, his lips pulled into somber line.
She’s a spy for fucks sake. She should be in control of her emotions, it’s how she manipulates people, but her dreams hit her the wrong way, and god is she home sick and this place...SHIELD? It isn’t her home.
She presses her hands to her eyes, makeup smudged onto the back of them, down her wrists, takes a breath to steady herself. It takes her a long moment before she can move again, patting her eyes with a small smile. “Like you’re one to talk, Hawk.” It’s joking mostly, but quiet, even as she reaches a hand out to him, carefully, slowly, as if moving too fast will spook him.
“I’ll be okay.”
