Clint was pretty sure he made it not to blush, but his smile revealed his relief. It was childish, of course, such things shouldn't matter, but especially since the country had been his idea, he really was glad that the house did it. He wanted Natasha to be as comfortable as possible.
Starting with adapting to the climate of course, and it had absolutely nothing to do with his enlightened mood or the sense of freedom settling in more and more, that he made a good example of getting out of his shirt first thing. Really, just getting used to the temperature.
"Not much to see, but if you want to take a look around..."
He made a vague gesture to bath-, bed- and storeroom on his way to the kitchen. Yep, and of course Angelina had taken care of the empty fridge too. He made a mental note to send an extra tip with the next cheque and poured out two big glasses of water for the first of heat and thirst. There even were icecubes and lemon slice cut ready. Already he began to remember why he loved that country and its people so much.
"Come with me for a second?"
Handing Natasha her glass, he nodded to the bedroom door. Again, nothing special, but the little balcony right in sight of the bed was definitely the best part of this house. And before they would take care of all the boring stuff like unpacking and checking on the alarm systems, he just needed to see.
Even now at night you could spot the lights of the ships from afar, and a light wind carried the faint smell of the ocean even up here. Clint rested his arms on the balustrade, like he had done it a thousand times before and just leaned there for a long moment, silently, trying to comprehend.
So... They had really done it. He wasn't delusional enough to think, all nightmares and fears would be chased away by the sound of waves from afar or taking on a few pounds from too much pasta. But standing here where he had spent so many lonely evenings in the past, with only the peace and silence of an ocean breeze could force away the pictures of violence from his mind... That surely wasn't something he hadn't expected last week, while fantasizing about killing the next whitecoat in sight with a pen if he had to hear the word deprogramming just once more.
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Date: 2014-03-12 02:35 pm (UTC)From:Clint was pretty sure he made it not to blush, but his smile revealed his relief. It was childish, of course, such things shouldn't matter, but especially since the country had been his idea, he really was glad that the house did it. He wanted Natasha to be as comfortable as possible.
Starting with adapting to the climate of course, and it had absolutely nothing to do with his enlightened mood or the sense of freedom settling in more and more, that he made a good example of getting out of his shirt first thing. Really, just getting used to the temperature.
"Not much to see, but if you want to take a look around..."
He made a vague gesture to bath-, bed- and storeroom on his way to the kitchen. Yep, and of course Angelina had taken care of the empty fridge too. He made a mental note to send an extra tip with the next cheque and poured out two big glasses of water for the first of heat and thirst. There even were icecubes and lemon slice cut ready. Already he began to remember why he loved that country and its people so much.
"Come with me for a second?"
Handing Natasha her glass, he nodded to the bedroom door. Again, nothing special, but the little balcony right in sight of the bed was definitely the best part of this house. And before they would take care of all the boring stuff like unpacking and checking on the alarm systems, he just needed to see.
Even now at night you could spot the lights of the ships from afar, and a light wind carried the faint smell of the ocean even up here. Clint rested his arms on the balustrade, like he had done it a thousand times before and just leaned there for a long moment, silently, trying to comprehend.
So... They had really done it. He wasn't delusional enough to think, all nightmares and fears would be chased away by the sound of waves from afar or taking on a few pounds from too much pasta. But standing here where he had spent so many lonely evenings in the past, with only the peace and silence of an ocean breeze could force away the pictures of violence from his mind... That surely wasn't something he hadn't expected last week, while fantasizing about killing the next whitecoat in sight with a pen if he had to hear the word deprogramming just once more.