“All in good time,” Natasha replied before disappearing into the bedroom. She knew Clint was worried about her, that he could tell she was feeling off. She would have to try harder to hide it, and get some rest to kick whatever it was. Stress of the past few days, jetlag, change in diet; whatever it was it would pass, and she refused to let it get the better of her. A little relaxation tonight and she should be much better tomorrow.
Unpacking her things, it was tempting to put on one of the sexy little numbers she had packed just to tease Clint, but their teasing rarely stayed at just that, and she didn’t really have the energy for another round right now, so she placed them all carefully in the top drawer of the dresser, along with her more sensible underwear.
Music made the unpacking go quicker, but Natasha stopped for a moment when she realised it wasn’t just the CD playing that she was hearing. Leaving her task for the moment, she slipped out to the washroom to grab the dresses she had hung there before pausing in the doorway to the livingroom where Clint was unpacking.
Whatever he thought of his own voice, Natasha was always impressed on the rare occasions she had heard him sing. There was something about his voice that made her heart beat faster and her stomach flip like some teenage girl at a concert for some boyband or another.
For a long moment she just watched and listened, overly pleased with the knowledge that he was feeling carefree and content enough to let himself go.
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Date: 2014-03-23 01:36 pm (UTC)From:Unpacking her things, it was tempting to put on one of the sexy little numbers she had packed just to tease Clint, but their teasing rarely stayed at just that, and she didn’t really have the energy for another round right now, so she placed them all carefully in the top drawer of the dresser, along with her more sensible underwear.
Music made the unpacking go quicker, but Natasha stopped for a moment when she realised it wasn’t just the CD playing that she was hearing. Leaving her task for the moment, she slipped out to the washroom to grab the dresses she had hung there before pausing in the doorway to the livingroom where Clint was unpacking.
Whatever he thought of his own voice, Natasha was always impressed on the rare occasions she had heard him sing. There was something about his voice that made her heart beat faster and her stomach flip like some teenage girl at a concert for some boyband or another.
For a long moment she just watched and listened, overly pleased with the knowledge that he was feeling carefree and content enough to let himself go.