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[ ღ ] my muse makes an attempt to cheer your muse up.
Clint didn’t know Laura well. They hadn’t interacted much, hadn’t spoken beyond brief conversations. She’d attacked him that one time, but if Clint held a grudge against everyone who attacked him he probably wouldn’t have any friends, so he’d let that go. The thing that mattered was that she was important to Nat. Really, at the end of the day, that was all Clint needed to know. She was important to Nat, and that meant she was important to Clint, too.
And right now, she was upset.
She was damn good at hiding it, but Clint had been a spy for most of his adult life and that meant he was pretty good at reading people. He could tell she was upset, bothered by something, and he had no idea what it was. It could be anything. The bodies, the city, the Accords... there was no shortage of shit these days.
Clint glanced at her from the corner of his eye, furrowing his brow. Truth was, he didn’t know much about kids. He had Kate, sure, but she was hardly the average 20-something, and most of his younger years had been spent either doing crime or stopping it, neither of which were exactly the best way of cheering someone up. Shifting, he turned to face her.
“Wanna shoot stuff with arrows?” Okay, probably not the #1 therapist recommended method for cheering someone up, but Clint was a man of few talents.
