While Clint went outside to retrieve the bowls Natasha filled the kettle and put it on to boil, choosing not to comment on his refusal of food. Cutting a slice of bread she didn’t pop it in the toaster yet, wanting to wait until her tea was steeping first.

More awkward silence followed as Clint prepared the food for the kitten and Natasha literally watched the kettle, waiting for the water to boil. It was as uncomfortable and painful as it sounds. Eventually he disappeared into the washroom with the food and she was left alone just waiting and watching and reminding herself to breathe.

Once her meager lunch was ready she sat back on the sofa and ate slowly and carefully. Her stomach felt more settled and she hoped the sickness had passed for the day. If only she could settle her mind and her heart as well.

Clint was gone a long time, and when by the time she finished eating and he hadn’t returned she slipped through to the bedroom and out on the balcony he had been so eager to show her that first day. She wished she could go back to that moment, back when things had been simpler. Even the beauty of the scenery didn’t seem able to touch her heart.