#sidbarton

"The hell you think you’re going, get your ass back in this bed, I ain’t gotta be in till ten, we’re cuddling."

Clint smiled up at the bright leaves, the tree nearly golden in the mid-afternoon light. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, fingerless gloves helping with the sharp chill in the air. He loved Fall. Loved the colors, loved the way it looked, love everything about it. Even the cold.

Clint smiled, hands behind his head, the hood of the sweatshirt pushed up to make a pillow, the over-long sleeves acting as gloves. He lay on his back, the long grass acting like a mattress under him, looking up at the stars. "It's weird, ya know? We're so far away...An we can still see em... My mom used ta take us lookin at stars out in the fields, near our house...She'd say 'hold onto the grass, or you'll float up to the sky, and out to the other side!" He grinned, remembering.

On that note. Tagging everyone who owes me as of now, according to what my activity thingy says.

Clint flitted between the burners, making sure the chowder wasn't burning, and the wontons were almost done. Flipping one, he nodded, smiling to himself. Nice and crispy, perfect.

tagging everyone I know wants to be on it.

"Was really hopin you’d sleep through that…" Clint smiled tiredly, running a hand through his hair. "I gotta be goin, remember? rat bastard’s plane leaves at six, I gotta get there an punch his face in before that."