"Hm-hm. We'll need it. You know, I do plan to keep you busy at night..."
Clint peered at her lazily through one half-opened eyelid, satisfied to see that Natasha looked more relaxed than since their arrival. The few words reminded him that long minutes of dozing in a not scorching but hot enough sun had passed, and he blindly grabbed for his water bottle to oil his throat.
It helped at least from the inside but his skin was burning. As good as being lazy felt right now, at the same time he itched to move, at least enough to feel refreshed. A hardly suppressed yawn on his lips, he stretched out shortly and got up as elegantly as possible with sleepy limbs to saunter over to the shore.
He was already wading through the shallow water when he saw from the corner of his eye something round, small shot straight at him. At least his instincts weren't asleep, he caught the fairly weathered volleyball easily in the crook of his elbow.
"Wow! Nice catch, signore!"
The young local boy who had made that rather misguided throw, neared him with an impressed grin, relieved that his toy hadn't landed out in the ocean.
"Scusi, signore. I always miss."
"All about practice, kid. Hold it right there."
Clint stopped the lad before he could come too close and threw the ball back in what he thought was a pretty easy angle. Unfortunately the kid wasn't any better at catching than throwing and the toy landed flat in the sand. From the way, he moved, Clint could tell, kid had a hand-eye-coordination weakness, nothing that time couldn't fix. But you didn't need to tell an archer how frustrating it was to not hit your target.
"Not the best place for that around here, though."
He knelt down next to the kid who looked really embarrassed now, digging small holes with his toes in the sand, and handed the ball over, balancing it on a fingertip.
"Can you do that?"
Kid tried and made it after two attempts which had him smiling in surprise.
"See? You have clever hands. Take that ball to the next wall and start training there. This for example."
Clint snatched the ball back quickly to throw it in the air and clap his hands a few times between throws and catches, before finally returning it for good.
"I will! Thanks, signore. Next time we play together!", the boy added quickly before running off, following a rather impatient shout of a woman busy with two more kids a few feet away.
Clint watched him go with a small grin and finally got into the water then.
He was far too lazy to try and break any records, but he still made it without problems out to the small row of buoys marking the safe territory. There he lingered on his back for a while, diving a few times to let his eyes get used to salt water again.
Only when a few jellyfish threatened to get too curious, he made his way back, still without any hurry, and got comfortable on his towel again, on his stomach this time, with his head comfortably buried on his arms.
"Now, this is what I call a human water temperature."
no subject
Clint peered at her lazily through one half-opened eyelid, satisfied to see that Natasha looked more relaxed than since their arrival. The few words reminded him that long minutes of dozing in a not scorching but hot enough sun had passed, and he blindly grabbed for his water bottle to oil his throat.
It helped at least from the inside but his skin was burning. As good as being lazy felt right now, at the same time he itched to move, at least enough to feel refreshed. A hardly suppressed yawn on his lips, he stretched out shortly and got up as elegantly as possible with sleepy limbs to saunter over to the shore.
He was already wading through the shallow water when he saw from the corner of his eye something round, small shot straight at him. At least his instincts weren't asleep, he caught the fairly weathered volleyball easily in the crook of his elbow.
"Wow! Nice catch, signore!"
The young local boy who had made that rather misguided throw, neared him with an impressed grin, relieved that his toy hadn't landed out in the ocean.
"Scusi, signore. I always miss."
"All about practice, kid. Hold it right there."
Clint stopped the lad before he could come too close and threw the ball back in what he thought was a pretty easy angle. Unfortunately the kid wasn't any better at catching than throwing and the toy landed flat in the sand. From the way, he moved, Clint could tell, kid had a hand-eye-coordination weakness, nothing that time couldn't fix. But you didn't need to tell an archer how frustrating it was to not hit your target.
"Not the best place for that around here, though."
He knelt down next to the kid who looked really embarrassed now, digging small holes with his toes in the sand, and handed the ball over, balancing it on a fingertip.
"Can you do that?"
Kid tried and made it after two attempts which had him smiling in surprise.
"See? You have clever hands. Take that ball to the next wall and start training there. This for example."
Clint snatched the ball back quickly to throw it in the air and clap his hands a few times between throws and catches, before finally returning it for good.
"I will! Thanks, signore. Next time we play together!", the boy added quickly before running off, following a rather impatient shout of a woman busy with two more kids a few feet away.
Clint watched him go with a small grin and finally got into the water then.
He was far too lazy to try and break any records, but he still made it without problems out to the small row of buoys marking the safe territory. There he lingered on his back for a while, diving a few times to let his eyes get used to salt water again.
Only when a few jellyfish threatened to get too curious, he made his way back, still without any hurry, and got comfortable on his towel again, on his stomach this time, with his head comfortably buried on his arms.
"Now, this is what I call a human water temperature."