"Well, I don't sign responsible for that. I'm the one she loves to scratch."

Clint thankfully took that bottle from Natasha because drinking was still easier than getting something solid in his stomach. But he had promised her so he sat down at the table with her and shoved down what was on his plate without much fuss. This time it at least tasted like ash with a hint of tomato. Maybe he should just stick with ketchup for the next two weeks.

With the kitten gone it was too soon too quiet again. Not because they had nothing to say to each other but because there was too much. Too much too heavy on their shoulders. Silencing it and hoping that the solution would fall from heaven wouldn't do it. Sure, they could sit on the balcony like yesterday, and he would be with her if that was what she wanted... But somehow Clint felt that wouldn't get them very far.

He waited until Natasha was finished eating before he reached out for her hand, speaking quietly, hesitating, because he just had no clue what was going on in her head right now. She seemed to have calmed down a bit but that could as well change any second.

"Tell me what you feel like doing, red? Do you need to be alone for a while? Or should we try enjoy the sun for a while?"