@mvndrvke said: ✖ + shoulder/arm ( kate )
she’s seen him shirtless before. many more times than reasonable, even. that’s what happens when kate lets herself into his apartment with a key he doesn’t remember giving her. and it’s been fine. she’s not once signed anything about the scars littering his torso and back. she’s not once reached out to touch them. even when stitching or cleaning up a new wound he can’t quite reach. the moment her fingertips brush over the faded scar on his shoulder—the scar he normally tells people was a bullet, the scar clint knows kate will recognize as an arrow—he jerks away. lunges for the dirty shirt he’d tossed to the floor. he can’t. he can’t have this conversation with her. it’s a door he wants to remain firmly shut.
clint tugs the shirt over his head, ignoring the way his ribs scream in protest at the movement. parks himself next to the landline and forces himself to take a breath. change the subject. « do you want pizza? » he wants kate to leave, but he can’t ask. it’s bad enough that he’s reacted this way. hurriedly yanking on a shirt, putting distance between them, changing the subject. kicking her out is just.... he can’t. « i’m starving. »
