Clint had found back on his old running route completely by instinct. A few streets going downhill for warming up, then these narrow slippery old stairs that always needed a bit of balancing... Two levels up there, to wake up his thigh muscles, and finally that sprint up the last serpentines to his house. He had expected to get lost in thought again... Running usually was where he cleared his mind, recapped the last days, planned the next and made up important decisions.
Instead he found himself searching for a glimpse of the ocean between roofs and on high points, let the yearning for this calm, powerful beauty take room of bad memories. Watching the dealers build up their stands on the market place in the distance, a few of their kids playing around the boxes... Smiling at the awakening life in a sleepy, harmless village felt so much better than pondering about what dreams of crying minors and blood on his hands meant.
Remember the good things. Let go of the past. It all sounded so easy in theory. On mornings like this, when there was only salty breeze in his heavily working lungs, the tension from yesterday falling out of his muscles with every step, he could sometimes believe it.
When he came back, he was not too surprised to find a certain box behind the box inhabited this time. The - their? No way, just a temporary arrangement - kitten sat on his blanket like a throne and was busy with the milk, a few white drops glistening in its whiskers. It hardly looked up when he reached down to pat its head, safe for that highly satisfied purred he kind of knew already.
"Don't get used to it", he grumbled, but it kind of sounded not half as aggressive as it should.
When had he become so soft again? Another thing he didn't need to look too hard into at this time of the day. Pulling out of that comfortable empty adrenaline zone reminded him, he had other priorities at the moment. His phone hadn't rang - not that he had expected it - but that didn't necessarily mean, everything was okay.
He tried to be quiet when he entered the door, but Natasha really had gotten up in the meantime which was good. She looked a little better, too, though he knew her well enough to tell that she had had a little make up help. She still was beautiful as ever, though, her skin all but radiating in the bright morning light and her hair falling in soft waves down her shoulder. His eyes lingered longer on her dress than absolutely necessary. It seemed to be an especially tight one... Or running in the morning just was really bad for his hormones.
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Date: 2014-03-30 09:02 pm (UTC)From:Instead he found himself searching for a glimpse of the ocean between roofs and on high points, let the yearning for this calm, powerful beauty take room of bad memories. Watching the dealers build up their stands on the market place in the distance, a few of their kids playing around the boxes... Smiling at the awakening life in a sleepy, harmless village felt so much better than pondering about what dreams of crying minors and blood on his hands meant.
Remember the good things. Let go of the past. It all sounded so easy in theory. On mornings like this, when there was only salty breeze in his heavily working lungs, the tension from yesterday falling out of his muscles with every step, he could sometimes believe it.
When he came back, he was not too surprised to find a certain box behind the box inhabited this time. The - their? No way, just a temporary arrangement - kitten sat on his blanket like a throne and was busy with the milk, a few white drops glistening in its whiskers. It hardly looked up when he reached down to pat its head, safe for that highly satisfied purred he kind of knew already.
"Don't get used to it", he grumbled, but it kind of sounded not half as aggressive as it should.
When had he become so soft again? Another thing he didn't need to look too hard into at this time of the day. Pulling out of that comfortable empty adrenaline zone reminded him, he had other priorities at the moment. His phone hadn't rang - not that he had expected it - but that didn't necessarily mean, everything was okay.
He tried to be quiet when he entered the door, but Natasha really had gotten up in the meantime which was good. She looked a little better, too, though he knew her well enough to tell that she had had a little make up help. She still was beautiful as ever, though, her skin all but radiating in the bright morning light and her hair falling in soft waves down her shoulder. His eyes lingered longer on her dress than absolutely necessary. It seemed to be an especially tight one... Or running in the morning just was really bad for his hormones.
"I kind of feel underdressed for breakfast."