Natasha had a hard time believing that Clint had been anything less than Prince Charming, but then she was definitely biased. He had been her knight in shining armour, after all, not that their lives were anything like a fairytale. “Their loss,” she said simply.

Closing her eyes and scrunching her nose up just slightly when he kissed her on the forehead, she slowly opened her eyes again and raised her brows at him. This was definitely not their norm, especially not where anyone else might see them, but for tonight she was allowing it and, more than that, enjoying it. Just once she wanted to feel what it was like to be normal without it being a cover they put on to fool everyone. It was funny to think about it: when they were under cover was when they got to show how they really felt about each other, and when they were themselves was when they had to wear masks and hide it.

They fell into an easy silence, caught up in the music and the dance and the moment, and Natasha thought she could have been content to stay like this forever, and forever was not a term she threw around lightly. In the distance she could hear the rumbling of the approaching storm that had been forecasted, but it only seemed to add bass to the music. She watched Clint’s eyes while they traveled over her hair, her face, unable to quite grasp the look she saw within. It was almost reverent, like he thought she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life and that he couldn’t believe they were here right now. Then he spoke and she couldn’t help but laugh. That was the cheesiest, sappiest thing she had ever heard, and he said it with such sincerity.

“I don’t think it works that way. You’re a few years late, I’m afraid,” she replied. Though if it did, he would be hers as well.