When Natasha was alone she slept with her back to the wall, or flat on her back, with her face toward the door, and usually with a weapon handy. It was habit, something ingrained in her so many years ago, and one that wasn’t easy to get over. With Clint it was different, she was able to relax and rest easily knowing she had his senses as well as hers on alert. She loved sleeping practically on top of him, curled against his side, or with one of them spooning the other, no matter how much it went against her usual mindset, and over the years she hadn’t gotten lax, per se, but slightly more comfortable with her life. Still, it was with Clint that she slept her best. Sometimes there were still nightmares, but they weren’t nearly as bad nor as frequent with him.
She had no idea how long she had slept, but by the time she awoke when Clint shifted out from under her the light through the window was quickly fading. His mumbled words had reached her ears but they hadn’t settled in yet, and by the time she realised he wasn’t just going to the restroom he was already at the front door.
Rolling onto her stomach, she peered over the arm of the sofa, her sleep confusion quickly vanishing as she watched him. The pitiful sounding mewling was indeed the same kitten from earlier, and instead of shooing it away as expected, Clint actually set a bowl of milk out for the hungry creature.
Natasha thought she loved him even more in that moment, if that was possible.
Even as kept the cat outside and claimed it was only once she could see his resolve weakening, and by the time he made his way back to her she simply looked at him silently, her amused expression doing all the talking.
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Date: 2014-03-25 12:05 am (UTC)From:She had no idea how long she had slept, but by the time she awoke when Clint shifted out from under her the light through the window was quickly fading. His mumbled words had reached her ears but they hadn’t settled in yet, and by the time she realised he wasn’t just going to the restroom he was already at the front door.
Rolling onto her stomach, she peered over the arm of the sofa, her sleep confusion quickly vanishing as she watched him. The pitiful sounding mewling was indeed the same kitten from earlier, and instead of shooing it away as expected, Clint actually set a bowl of milk out for the hungry creature.
Natasha thought she loved him even more in that moment, if that was possible.
Even as kept the cat outside and claimed it was only once she could see his resolve weakening, and by the time he made his way back to her she simply looked at him silently, her amused expression doing all the talking.