Letting Clint return to his towel, she straightened hers out and brushed some of the sand off of it before stretching out her legs. “I would hope that if anyone started trying to roll you away you would wake up anyhow,” she said, poking him playfully in the belly. “But don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

Leaning away to search through her beach bag, Natasha came up with one of the books she had picked up at the market. It was already battered and well worn so she was able to hold it open easily with one hand. Laying down on her side facing Clint, she propped her head up with her other hand and flipped to the first page expertly with her thumb. Peering over the book at Clint’s face, she studied him a moment, the way his long lashes just brushed upon his cheeks. Impulsively, when she began to read she did so aloud.

“The unicorn lived in a lilac wood, and she lived all alone...”


((Excerpt from The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle))