#;clint

So learning that she would trust him to do it came as a surprise to her too. Not an unpleasant one, either. "I would."

Tired eyes looked back at the man suddenly yelling at him, surprised that he had even managed to get into the building. Security measures were high, not even Eric would have managed to just walk in there without sweating. Shit, if Clint kept talking in that loud voice, his landlord was going to come out. And you really don’t want to mess with that man. “The fuck, man?” Eric rasped out when there was finally a pause between Clint’s rant. “Ye know wha’ toime it is? Ye could ge’ shot in this hallway’n’ no one’d ever notice.”

"Wanna trade? You can use my phone if I can take a look at your hoverbike. Also not a pick-up line."

Letting her hands caress their way around his body, she looks over him as well, searching for any injuries before finally asking. “You okay?” The hand gestures follow in time with the words, something she’s trying to cultivate into a habit, falling silent as she cups his cheek and runs her thumb below a little nick marking his skin.

[text: angry bird] really? [text: angry bird] you’re not mad at me?

He didn’t know if Clint would come. Or if he had actually read that letter he had dropped in his mailbox. Maybe he had ripped it apart and then thrown it out the window? Maybe he had burnt it... Taking a deep breath, his fingers were lightly curled around a glass of wine that he swayed a little from side to side, watching the red beverage almost rolling over the glass’ rim. Just what he had done the last hour or so; the same glass, the same seat, the same amount of alcohol that he still hadn’t touched.

[text] you can’t expect me to not laugh[text] jfc what happened?[text] and what kind of chocolate do you want?[text] lol