Talk? Clint wasn't sure he wanted to talk about anything right now. He wasn't even sure he could. Then again, he didn't have an idea what he wanted to do, except for maybe empty a bottle of whiskey until he was too far gone to think.
That option obviously wasn't in the books so he did what he could best and followed Natasha's lead again, just nodding shortly and leading her outside. He had no real idea where he was going, actually. But there were little viewpoints everywhere in this city thanks to its location, so being alone shouldn't be too hard.
He kept his gaze mostly locked to the floor while they were walking because suddenly he seemed to spot a damn baby stroller or a pregnant woman everywhere he was looking, and he still wasn't that far from just starting to run. Fortunately it was just a two minutes walk to a well in the shadow of the main street, with a good view on the ocean. Similar to the one they had been sitting on on their first morning here. Which right now seemed to be an eternity away.
Clint fell down on the low stone wall like someone had paralyzed his legs and continued staring at the floor then. Natasha probably expected him to say something, but that big mouth of his for once had gone to mute. And really, what was there for him to say? It wasn't different than before. This all still was her decision. He shouldn't even be bothered by what was possible or not.
Yep. That would be best. He would just let her talk and nod and then buy them a cab home and get his ugly ass drunk for the rest of the day. The plan had a few flaws, admittedly, but he was Clint Barton after all. People didn't expect anything but disaster from him.
no subject
That option obviously wasn't in the books so he did what he could best and followed Natasha's lead again, just nodding shortly and leading her outside. He had no real idea where he was going, actually. But there were little viewpoints everywhere in this city thanks to its location, so being alone shouldn't be too hard.
He kept his gaze mostly locked to the floor while they were walking because suddenly he seemed to spot a damn baby stroller or a pregnant woman everywhere he was looking, and he still wasn't that far from just starting to run. Fortunately it was just a two minutes walk to a well in the shadow of the main street, with a good view on the ocean. Similar to the one they had been sitting on on their first morning here. Which right now seemed to be an eternity away.
Clint fell down on the low stone wall like someone had paralyzed his legs and continued staring at the floor then. Natasha probably expected him to say something, but that big mouth of his for once had gone to mute. And really, what was there for him to say? It wasn't different than before. This all still was her decision. He shouldn't even be bothered by what was possible or not.
Yep. That would be best. He would just let her talk and nod and then buy them a cab home and get his ugly ass drunk for the rest of the day. The plan had a few flaws, admittedly, but he was Clint Barton after all. People didn't expect anything but disaster from him.